Blood, Honor, and the Breath of Ratec
by WeAsLeYkid8
Summary: When the Procyons threaten peace, all hell breaks loose...
1. Default Chapter

Ch. 1   
  
Disclaimer: You wouldn't WANT me to own this.  
  
"Get me some more damn rum and be quick about it, man!"  
  
When the Captain gave an order, one had to be all too quick to reply to his demands—lest he find himself hanging from the crow's nest by his own entrails. Sloek was good for many things--organizing men, plotting courses, firing blaster rifles with deadly accuracy—but for now, his leader wanted rum, and rum (and plenty of it) was what he was going to get. The middle-aged male bounded down below deck as fast as his feline legs could carry him, past the soldiers playing cards, past a crewman being pounded on by two much bigger riggers, all the way to the galley, where the cook was finishing up cooking his last large pot of putrid slop for the night. The cook's only indication that notice had been taken of the assistant was the deep grunt he offered the hurried man right before whacking the long neck off a large, formerly squawking bird.  
  
Sloek franticly skimmed the ship's liquor inventory. The whiskey was slowly running out, the vodka was all but gone, and he hadn't seen so much as a drop of Shakelian gin in three weeks, but he would tackle that problem later. Tonight, the Captain and his esteemed guest, the Admiral B'nak, wanted a few large bottles of rum with which to wash down the gamy taste of the Procyon swamp heron meat. He was about to give up hope of ever finding the appropriate beverage when he managed to dig out a dusty bottle hidden in the corner behind a rotten, maggot-filled bovine carcass. Brushing off the dust and traces of rat droppings, Sloek quickly scurried back above deck to the Captain's quarters.  
  
"So you see, Captain Maltor," the Admiral spoke, his mouth full of meat, "I'm taking this mission very seriously. The Terran empire has held us at bay too long. It is time we took the Breath of Ratec into full Procyon control, and with it, send the Terrans to their knees, begging for mercy."  
  
Maltor grunted. He bit halfway into a small, green fruit, juice dripping down his arm. Before he spoke, he spit the fruit's large black pit across the room, where it hit an empty tankard with a loud "clang." "And it is true? When the Terran empire falls, they make me a rich man?"  
  
"You and me both. You'll have the honor of your entire tribe…maybe even a planet or two to seal the deal." The Admiral spread out a map of the Terran's claim. "Go ahead, pick one, my friend."  
  
Maltor stuffed the other half of the fruit in his mouth before hunching over the map. Picking up a long serrated knife, he traced the Mucculough Current through the Procyon Expanse, deep into the heart of Terran territory. His eyes flickered to a small green and blue planet, surrounded by three moons. He drove the knife into the table, over the planet, marking his claim. "That one. After I am done slaying the natives, that is the place the Tribe of Maltor will call home."  
  
**********  
  
Though she knew very well that he was still on the other side of the house, most likely still sleeping, there was something in her feline instincts that kept her quiet as she went about her mission. She snaked around a large pile, over the area rug and past the two chairs that had been abandoned since two nights ago. She approached his desk, taking a deep breath before plunging into the task at hand.  
  
She was going to clean out the observatory if it killed her.  
  
Armed with a garbage sack, Amelia rifled through Delbert's things, resolving that, if it didn't look important, it was destined for the garbage. She made quick work of the drawers, throwing away numerous broken lens and telescope parts. She rolled her eyes as she threw out an ancient, rusty compass which wouldn't work, nor did it look like it HAD worked in ten or twelve years. She had made her way to the desktop, which was so cluttered she had half a mind to just sweep everything off of it and force Delbert to start anew. She set aside charts and data sheets into neat stacks, and began to right the photographs that were tipped over on the far corner of the desk, save for one, which, in all the mess, sat upright as if Delbert had actually---dare she think it?—taken time to see that it stayed in it's proper place. She smiled inwardly as she noted that it was their wedding photo, being displayed proudly, dust and clutter free, save for a small mint propped up against the side of it. Of course, the only reason the picture was in such good condition was probably due to its novelty—they had only been married two months, after all.  
  
*I give it another week before he's covered it like the others.* She snickered. She was about to dispose of a fistful of old (*Two years old! What is he thinking!*) newspapers when she heard someone stir in the entranceway.  
  
"I can't shut my eyes around here anymore, can I?" Delbert grinned at her, his face clearly saying "Busted!"  
  
"Not if you want to avoid being tripped by all this junk," she quipped, "Honestly, this place is a mess. Did you know, Doctor, that you have newspapers from two summers ago cluttering your desk?"  
  
Delbert shrugged sheepishly, "I haven't quite gotten around to reading them. Busy, you know."  
  
Amelia laughed before stuffing the articles in with the rest of her accumulations. Delbert frowned.  
  
"Now really," Amelia insisted, "This place looks horrid. Hasn't seen a proper cleaning in…oh, it pains me to think about it."  
  
"I'll clean it," he said, trying to shoo her away from the desk.  
  
"Yes, and I'm going to see that John Silver is crowned Queen."  
  
"I will," he persisted, "After breakfast. I'll get right on it."  
  
Amelia eyed him skeptically, but dropped the sack. "Fine," she relinquished, "I have plenty of work to keep me busy anyway. But mark my words Delbert Doppler, you'll clean this place up or you'll find yourself sleeping here tonight…alone."  
  
Doppler waved off the half-hearted threat. "Of course, of course, spotless by nightfall—you'll see."  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him before leaving the room. "Yes, that WILL be something to see."   
  
Delbert stood there a moment, taking in the enormity of his task. "Why do I have this feeling like I'll be sleeping alone for a few months?"  
  
*******  
  
In all his years as a bachelor, Delbert was still incapable of making an edible sort of toast. He knew that, and, much to his chagrin, so did his wife, who had the hindsight to see that the toast was already prepared and on a plate for them by the time he trudged downstairs, looking like a man who was just told to move the cosmos. He sat down across from his wife, taking a drink from his coffee cup.  
  
"Just remember," she smiled slyly, "I DID offer to clean it for you."  
  
He gave her a look that he meant to be one of fierce annoyance, but she simply chuckled, stirring her tea, and shaking her head. He grabbed his toast in one hand, the morning paper in another, and was about to begin reading the latest about the governmental troubles when his doorbell rang, sending a cacophony of sound throughout the manor.  
  
"Bloody hell, it's barely eight o'clock!" Amelia exclaimed, as she straightened her clothing and headed for the door. Just as curious as she was as to whom could possibly be calling so early, Delbert followed on her heels, his paper and bread forgotten. He arrived in the main hall just as Amelia opened the door to allow a young naval courier to step inside.  
  
"I've been told to deliver this telegram to Captain Amelia," he said, shaking slightly as he pulled a letter from his pocket, "I guess that's you…uh…yeah…ma'am." He handed the paper to Amelia before making a hasty retreat.  
  
"What do you suppose it is, dear?" Delbert asked, peering over his wife's shoulder.  
  
She sighed. "Well, at first I thought it was a letter from home saying that my great-aunt Aenid was dead, but then I remembered he was in uniform, so it must be bad news."  
  
Delbert swallowed as she opened the envelope. It contained nothing but a single sheet of paper, with the crest of the empire at the top in bold reds and blues.  
  
Captain Amelia,  
  
Please report to Crescentia Spaceport at 14 00.  
  
General Markum Salaes  
  
"That's it?" Delbert asked, confused. "They just order you to show up?"  
  
Amelia sighed. "That probably means it's VERY bad news."  
  
"So what are you going to do?" he peered at her.  
  
"I have 6 hours to be at port, of course."  
  
Delbert sighed. *Damn navy.* "I'll get Delilah ready to go."  
  
********  
  
"Captain Amelia, always a pleasure," General Salaes smiled at her from over a long table, "I'm sorry for the short notice."  
  
"Not a problem. What exactly am I here for, might I ask?"  
  
"I'll get to that in a moment, I have a few more people I want here."   
  
Amelia glanced around the room. There were already about 10 or 15 officers crowded around one large table, and she found it hard to believe that Salaes was anticipating a bigger group. She took the opportunity to peer at the long map that had been laid out on the table. It was an area she had gotten a little too familiar with in the past, and had a sinking feeling she was going to be revisiting in the future. She was deep in thought and didn't notice that the meeting was going to commence until she heard the thick wooden doors of the war room slam shut behind her. Snapping back to reality, Amelia watched straight faced and Salaes leaned on his end of the table.   
  
"Gentlemen…it's those damn Procyons again."  
  
*******  
  
"…And so he's sending a few fleets down to head off the Procyons at the Mucculough Current."  
  
Delbert blinked once at his wife. "So what's that got to do with you?"  
  
"He wants me to lead one of the fleets."  
  
Delbert groaned softly. He had been afraid of this ever since that morning. "And…?"  
  
"And what?" Amelia said, "I'm going to take a dozen ships down to the border."  
  
He squirmed in the chair he was sitting in. Suddenly, everything felt so uncomfortable…  
  
Amelia easily sensed his tension. "You're welcome to accompany me," she said quietly, "I always have room for an experienced astronomer."  
  
Delbert nodded slowly, apparently still deep in thought. "But…the Procyons? They're…they're…BRUTAL. More so than any pirate."  
  
Amelia sighed. "I know. I've fought them once and hoped I would never have to again."  
  
Delbert glanced up at his wife, and, for a fraction of a second, saw her as weak and vulnerable as he ever had seen her. But, with a blink of an eye, the sight was gone, and she stood.  
  
"Well, this fleet isn't going to get prepared by itself. Those ruddy slackers need some direction…will you be joining me, Doctor?"  
  
He was scared. The stories he had heard…and even Amelia was wary deep down, even though she had managed to hide it from the rest of the universe. After experiencing a few "adventures" in his life, he had surely had more than his fill, but he wasn't going to send his beloved wife out into the depths of disputed space alone.  
  
"'Til death do we part, right?" he said, trying to be cheerful.  
  
Amelia offered him a sad smile. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."  
  
To be continued…  
  
  
  
Hello all you lovely people who made it this far! For those of you, who have read my previous work, welcome back for more punishment. I know the beginning may sound similar to my other story, but stick it out, okay? It's different, I swear…how else is she gonna get the news?  
  
For the newcomers…ask the old readers…you're in for a lot of pain. Seriously though, you can call me Weasleykid8, or J., or "Stupid girl who couldn't write fic to save her life." Whatever. I DO request that all flames be made to me personally at my email address…other than that, you can say what you please, and please do! I love reviews.  
  
So…I'm back…  
  
::watches everyone flock::  
  
Aloha,  
  
J. CaptDuck96@netscape.net 


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.   
  
Delbert paced the cabin he and his wife were sharing. He had made a few voyages in his time--run into trouble along the way. But he had never, EVER imagined he would go LOOKING for a fight. Whatever respect he had had for Amelia was now magnified ten-fold; after all, while he was inside biting his nails and fretting, she was above ship, calmly giving orders to her crew. He finally forced himself to stop pacing when his knee collided with a bedpost; hissing, he took a seat on the blue bedding. He spent a moment looking about the cabin, which was wholly unfamiliar to him; the Legacy had been left back at the spaceport: though she was a reliable and well-kept ship, the General had made it clear that it was just too small for the attacks he had in mind--not to mention the personnel involved. His beloved wife was put into temporary command of the RLS Tempest, with a complimenting crew of 57 men, himself not included. In addition, she was commander of a small fleet of 12 ships, each with a crew of at least 45. That was easily 597 men and one nervous husband that Amelia had charge over, and so far, she hadn't so much as flinched under the responsibility. *What a woman.*  
  
  
  
Still, despite the number of experienced soldiers involved and the capable leadership of his lover, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that they were all headed for death, destruction, or, at the very least, a great deal of pain. He knew more about Amelia than quite possibly anyone in the universe, but she was unwilling to really delve into her past valor on the Procyon battlefield. Amelia, he knew, covered up those things about herself she didn't want others to see--and if HE knew next to nothing about her previous battle on the border, he knew it had to have been a pretty terrifying experience.  
  
He rose from the bed, in favor of the window stretching the entire length of one of the bedroom walls. He stood, watching the etherium speed past, remembering back on the first days of the Treasure Planet voyage, when he thought of space as intriguing and exciting. The pit in his stomach stanched all those old feelings…  
  
"Crazy, Delbert," he muttered to himself, "Had to fall for the naval woman. You have a PhD! When you saw her taking down pirates in a single shot a red flag should have gone up--DING! This woman does some crazy stuff for a living! But noooo…had to be all turned on by it, didn't you?" He began pacing the room again, his eyes focused on the floor, muttering all the way, when Amelia entered. He nearly collided with her, managing only to trip over her planted boot.  
  
"Call me crazy, dear," Amelia quipped, stretching out her open hand for Doppler to take, "But I get this insane notion that you're…I don't know…TWITCHY about something. I haven't seen you this nervous since our wedding day." She picked him up off the floor, then added as an afterthought, pointing to a metal trashcan in the corner of the room, "Please tell me you haven't lost your lunch in this wastebasket too?"   
  
He glared at her. "No, no. What makes you think I'm 'twitchy'?"  
  
Amelia looked at him incredulously. "Delbert, you're wearing a path in the floor with all your pacing. Now remember--this isn't my ship. I don't want to end up paying to have the floor re-done."  
  
He sighed, sitting back down on the bed, motioning her to join him. "Okay, but you can't say I'm crazy for being nervous…I mean…we're heading STRAIGHT TOWARD an enemy fleet. With guns… and equally frightening things, I'm sure."  
  
Amelia nodded, her face serious. "You're absolutely right. The Procyons are the last people you want to mess with. I have the scars to prove it."  
  
Delbert watched her carefully as she spoke; it was one of those rare times she was going to let "The Captain" take a rest and let "Amelia" come out to speak her piece. She narrowed her eyes, as if trying to make the mental image in her head clearer. She was silent for a long time--so long, he was worried she would consume herself with her awful thoughts, and close back up again, unwilling to share.  
  
When she finally spoke, it took him by surprise. "We lost 85 men in one day. ONE DAY. They snuck up on us from the starboard side…we were so immersed in the ships attacking us ahead that we paid no mind…there were so many of them. We managed to get most of the men out…but when we came back, it was the same story. Oh, we took out our fair share of the bastards, but still…you never get used to seeing a Procyon Marshall skewer two men at once and feed their hearts to their Gondarlian Bullpigs." She shuddered, only slightly, but continued, "They've burned embassies, slaughtered merchants-- no one's safe. I was hoping that they would have abided by the Treaty and stayed in the expanse, but if that were so, we'd be home right now."  
  
She paused, and Delbert sat back, convinced she was done. She wasn't going to give up details, and he didn't want them.  
  
"I'm glad you're here, Delbert," she said suddenly.  
  
Delbert was shocked. "Well, I…I mean, that's fantastic that you're happy I…but really, I'm…not a soldier."   
  
"No," she said, scooting closer to him, "But you'll keep me sane--keep me strong." She rested her head on his shoulder, but kept her eyes fixed straight ahead of her.   
  
"I…Amelia…"  
  
"You're my best friend, Doctor. Keep me honest, in line…like…Arrow did."  
  
Delbert sucked in a breath. Suddenly his fears, his burdens, seemed multiplied; before he was just an astronomer, there to give helpful advise, but mostly to stay out of the way. Suddenly, he was the Captain's therapy, her leaning post. The responsibility, the implications of it all…  
  
And yet, when he watched her, absorbed in her own mind, in her own thoughts, his job seemed trivial. Looking after the well-being of one person was tough--but she had 597 hands she was responsible for, and she was still standing.  
  
He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her tightly. "Of course. Anything you need--we'll make this turn out right." She nodded somewhat distractedly, and the two of them sat in silence for a few more seconds before Amelia turned to him with a small grin on her face.  
  
"Well, I don't know about you, dear, but I'm absolutely famished. Best we be heading to the galley to call up some dinner, I think."  
  
He nodded, somewhat thankful that the uncomfortable silence was broken. "Yes, yes, you're quite right. Though I sincerely hope there's no sort of grotesque stew on the menu."  
  
"You're not the only one," she replied, holding open the door to their cabin, "Maybe it's all the classy living I've done on land, but I don't much care to have eyeballs in my soup."  
  
He smiled at her as he stepped out onto the deck for the first time since they had left Crescentia behind. There was a slight breeze, cool, but just short of being unpleasantly so. Delbert let his eyes wander across the foreign ship's main deck--it was exquisite, with dark ebony floor polished to such precision, he really COULD see his reflection in it. *My tie's crooked.* He was just about to straighten it when Amelia strode past him, and, realizing that he hadn't the slightest idea where anything was, he aborted his task in order to keep pace with her. Amelia's boots make hard, rhythmic taps on the shinning deck as she breezed past the main mast to use the center door in the floor to go below ship. Delbert shot a quick glance up--this ship had masts that were easily twice in number, one-and-a-half times larger, and nearly 2 dozen more sails than that of the Legacy. A large main sail sat in a sea of small ones, gleaming just as the others were, but donning an extravagant crest of the Empire. Delbert gave a low whistle before descending after his wife.  
  
It was brightly lit below deck; one long, narrow passageway led to almost every place on that deck--the crew quarters, the weapons locker, the medic's. Amelia took the second door on the left an stepped into a large room lined with long, worn tables and scuffed benches. All of the benches were occupied by naval sailors enjoying a meal, a card game, an arm wrestle, or a verbal assault (these of course were done across the ROOM, rather than across tables). All heads snapped up quickly as the Captain entered and silence reigned. The benches began to creak as they were skidded back from the tables, allowing the crewman to salute their commander. They all rose, but Amelia quickly waved them down, not wanting to worry about such military shows this late in the evening. The crew watched silently as she walked the length of the galley to the kitchen, only deciding to re-entertain their previous activities after Amelia was out of sight.   
  
Amelia approached the cook, a tawny, skinny feline male who was busy trying to transfer a large pot to the stove in the corner of the room. Before Amelia opened her mouth to speak, the chef looked up, and, upon seeing her, dropped the pot on the floor. Amelia watched in hit the clean floor with a loud 'clang,' thankful when no contents came spilling out--the pot was empty. The cook was flustered for a moment, unsure what to do or say. He met Amelia's gaze, then snapped to attention, the pot ignored for the moment.  
  
"Captain! It's…what are you doing here? I mean, it's not like you can't be here, I mean…you're the CAPTAIN…err, right…I'll shut up now."  
  
Amelia bent down and took the pot in her hands, then handed it off to the chef. "At ease. I just came down here to request dinner is all."  
  
The chef looked relieved, those he was still blushing with embarrassment over his rather lame first impression. "Of course. I can have a bowl of Fendel pasta in blue tomato sauce up to your stateroom in twenty minutes."  
  
"That sounds wonderful--but make it two bowls."  
  
"I can always prepare a soup too if you're that hungry, Captain."  
  
Amelia waved her hand in dismissal. "No, I just have a guest is all. This is my husband, Delbert Doppler." She stepped aside to gesture to the doctor, who was watching the now lively galley with interest. He heard himself introduced, and turned around quickly, thrusting his left hand out to shake the cook's.  
  
"Wow, you're a Canian," the chef breathed, taking the outstretched hand.  
  
"Yes," Doppler furrowed his brow, "I am. Is that…unusual?"  
  
"Well, the crew is almost entirely feline, that's all."  
  
Doppler cast a glance back at the galley. Now that he mentioned it…  
  
Amelia stepped back into conversation. "Twenty minutes, Mr.….?"  
  
"Tores. Yes. I'll have the cabin boy run it up."  
  
Amelia nodded once. "Thank you, Mr. Tores. Now if you'll excuse me…" she turned and left the room, Delbert in tow. Halfway back to the stateroom, he spoke up.  
  
"Why is that, anyway?"  
  
"Why is what?"  
  
"The crew. Why mostly one species?"  
  
"The navy learned years ago that same-species crews…get along better than others. Most of the crews nowadays are like that…about 79% of official crews."  
  
"No kidding."  
  
"Montressor is quite out of the ordinary when you compare it to other planets; some species can be quite volatile to others." She walked to the side of the deck and leaned on the railing, facing her husband. "Even my species has their own prejudices. It's foolish really…but some people insist on holding onto outdated ideals."  
  
He smiled at her. "But you're obviously better than that…otherwise you'd be paired with one of those crewmen downstairs."  
  
"Mmmm," she agreed, "It's all rubbish…one species being superior over another…."  
  
"I agree."  
  
They stared out into the Etherium for a moment before Amelia spoke again.  
  
"I'm going back to our quarters, coming, dear?"  
  
"In a moment," he replied, still gazing into the depths of space.  
  
"All right. Just remember, we have dinner coming."  
  
"I will."  
  
She headed back to the stateroom, her the sound of her footsteps fading as she wandered further and further away.  
  
Delbert received a strange feeling of calm staring out into blank and quiet space. For a moment, it almost felt like he was sitting at his telescope in his observatory back home, reveling in the warm orange glow of an evening fire, while Amelia sat in an oversized chair, reading. The image was only shattered by the 11 other ships flanking the Tempest closely. Doppler could make out some of the ships as clearly as he could his own; several of them had half-crew compliments in place during the evening hours, and he watched a Cragorian helmsman yawn at his post on the nearest right vessel while his Felinid navigator looked on. The two were suddenly startled by a loud, booming voice barking orders at them from the main deck's bow.   
  
Delbert froze. He knew that voice.  
  
*****  
  
"Sir," Sloek spoke in gaspy breaths, "Our spies say the Terrans have deployed over 15 fleets. They're on their way here."  
  
"Any idea how long they'll take to get here?"  
  
"First fleet should be here in a week."  
  
Maltor rose from his chair and bent over his bottle of whiskey. He grabbed the bottle by the neck, took a long swig, then set it down.  
  
"Perfect. Let them come."  
  
To Be Continued…  
  
Whoo. Ch. 2! Now that I'm (reluctantly) back in school, I'm being kept (reluctantly) busy. I'll do what I can to keep this going along, though.  
  
Thanks to Tigrin, Tmyres, and all my other reviewers! I love the attention because I'm a huge brat like that ;) Oh, and Kerro, thanks for catching that spelling error. I'm a HORRIBLE speller.  
  
Oh, and while I'm at it, how about another addition of:  
  
J's shameless plugs of TP doom!! ::cue thunder::  
  
Go read "Out in the Open" by Tmyres77. You won't be disappointed. Oh, and if you're just now getting around to TP fic, there's an older one by Tigrin…but I don't remember the name!! (D'oh!) I have a few really good fics listed in my "Favorite Stories" category, so check them out….unless you're looking for Jim fan girl stuff.   
  
I've talked way more than my fair share, so please continue to read and enjoy, and also, don't forget to review!   
  
Aloha,  
  
J. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3  
  
Disclaimer: I own so little right now it'd make you cry. Really. One of the lines is from the great minds of Peter David and Bill Mumy. Cookies to whoever knows which line.  
  
Amelia had insisted that she had only a bowl of pasta to finish before she could grace the meeting room with her presence, but, as he stared at his clock perched in the corner of his stateroom, Captain Raymond of the RLS Nefarious was beginning to suspect that she was taking her damn sweet time in her stateroom. He glanced around at the other 10 captains in the room--a group of rowdy men who were all eager to hunker down with their nightly gin and dream sweet dreams of the exotic women they had "entertained" an evening or two at port with. Raymond himself had insisted that the commanding officers and important crew complements attended Amelia's tri-weekly briefings in his stateroom--after all, it WAS the biggest in the fleet.  
  
*Among other things,* he smiled wickedly to himself. *If only Amelia knew the half of it--she wouldn't have thrown her love life away on a…a nerd.* He crossed the room to his desk, which was in pristine condition. He peered into the shiny dark wood, admiring his reflection and smoothing out his collar with a large hand. The most gorgeous captain to ever sail the seven skies would be here in just moments, and he wanted to look his best. He was a man of bold determination, and would have his woman, despite the minor technicalities like the unspoken codes of command, her general aloofness toward him, and her having a husband. *Pfft; the astronomer is DEFINITELY most minor.* He was about to entertain his mind with many fun and delicious thoughts of killing a Canian and disposing of the body, but was interrupted when the object of his most explicit fantasies came breezing in the room with all the prim sophistication of a royal addressing her advisors.  
  
"Good evening," she said, waltzing past a short, stout captain and his bright purple first mate, "I trust everyone is here."  
  
Raymond gave her his largest, most dashing smile, revealing two rows of glistening white teeth. His expression quickly soured when he noticed that his most lovely captain had brought along the most unwanted in company. "Amelia," he said, his tone at a near-dangerous growl, "I thought you ordained that we bring only important members of our crew to the meetings; had I known we could bring just anyone, I would have invited the cabin boy to join in."  
  
Delbert flashed the much larger man a look of sheer annoyance, but Amelia's face remained clam. She grinned at her husband's rival. "Really now, Raymond, such a statement. If we're talking about including only the most important parts of our operation, maybe I should rethink letting you sit in on the conversation."  
  
The short captain chuckled, only to be silenced by a glare from Raymond. "Very well," he grumbled, "Let's get this started; I haven't got all night."  
  
Amelia sat on Raymond's large red leather chair at the head of the table and spread out a map; the other commander's followed suit, and soon a brisk debate began over which route was the fastest to take, which was the safest to take, and which had the sleaziest ports that should be avoided when the need for supplies arose. Doppler soon found himself uninterested in the conversation, and soon let his eyes wander around the room. Raymond's stateroom was of a considerably darker shade than Amelia's was on the Legacy; everything was done in dark ebony woods or deep black iron. Still, everything was neat as Amelia kept her things, from the organized desk, to the sparkling windows, to the nearly scuffless floor. The large room contained many of the same features of Amelia's--maps, globes, weapons locker--save for the far right corner, which contained a rather large and elaborate cage. His curiosity getting the better of him, Delbert wandered over to the cage while two felid captains got into a rather heated argument that was painted with words of a rather horrendous and uncivilized sort. Reaching the structure, Delbert peered inside to see a rather large reptile taking up space on a half-dead branch. *Iguana,* he thought to himself, recalling that Amelia had once mentioned the brawny captain's affinity to the reptile. Absentmindedly, he reached out to touch the side of the cage with his fingers.  
  
SNAP! The pet lunged forward with a speed Delbert had never seen from a scaly creature in his life, sharp fangs glistening with saliva as it tried in vain to make a quick snack of Doppler's fingers. The noise of the agitated creature attracted the attention of the captains, who were still in the middle of heated discussion.  
  
Raymond stole away to the corner quickly, reaching his hand into the cage and withdrawing the long pet from its home. He held it closely, grinning slyly as the vicious iguana barred its fangs once more at the astronomer, who quickly counted all of the fingers on his left hand. "Careful there, doctor," Raymond said, "These are Ukelian mountain iguana. They're know to be a little…spirited. Still, Bea here is quite tame…you must be quite the UNWANTED visitor."  
  
The remark earned Raymond dirty looks from both Doppler and his wife, though Amelia's was considerably darker.  
  
"Now if you would kindly restrain that oversized gecko of yours, I'd like to get back to mapping out a proper course sometime before we all have to resign our commissions," Amelia glared pointedly at Raymond. The burly captain tucked the iguana in the crook of his arm and took his seat at the commander's table once more. He went back to concentrating on the task at hand, but not before stroking the pet's back lovingly and throwing a glance at Delbert that clearly said that master was quite pleased with what his lizard had attempted to do.  
  
"We'll probably need to refuel around the Donorian system," said a thin, older captain. His eyes spun on their stalks to face Amelia. "We could make it to the Mucculough Current on what we have, but I think we should plan to have extra fuel in the event that we need to flee."  
  
The stout captain spoke up. "Do we want full fuel tanks in battle? Suppose we take a direct hit?"  
  
Amelia pursed her lips. "Well, the thing's going up in a blaze whether we have a full tank or an empty one, so I think we're better off having a way out should we need it. Is there a reputable spaceport in the system?"  
  
"Depends on what you consider 'reputable,'" Raymond remarked. "Bao'din port is better known for honest business, but you'll be lucky to get anywhere near some districts without being shot, stabbed, or both. Quanr port is less violent, but it's notorious for its…unethical business practices."  
  
"Unethical?" a young captain asked.  
  
"Slave trade, prostitution, black-market organ trade--to name a few. Although, I hear Canian organs can be valuable," he smiled innocently. Amelia's head shot up and she fixed a hard glare on him that Delbert swore could have melted Arcturian solar crystals.  
  
"I suggest that you refrain from any further unnecessary commentary during this meeting, or else I may find an organ to sell to the Quanr businessmen that you find very valuable indeed."  
  
Raymond's expression fell at this comment. He could tell he was crossing the line a bit too much now, and, for the sake of his…organ, he should stay quiet for the time being.   
  
"So should we take the route through the Malkay system past the red giant, or should we loop around the binary system near Eo's pass?" a flounder-like captain spoke in a whispy voice.  
  
"I believe the Malkay system is the better bet," Doppler spoke up, "The binary system is known to have several gravitational anomalies."  
  
"True," a feline in a brown coat chimed in, "But the Malkay system has recurrent comets passing through them."  
  
"We can compensate for them using simple math," Doppler looked at her over his glasses.  
  
The feline laughed. "Simple math? My, you must be something, what to consider the Sanghi equation and Kolf hypothesis 'simple math.'"  
  
Doppler blushed, blinking at the woman. "Well…I…thank you…I suppose. How do you know so much about astrophysical math?"  
  
One of the captains spoke up, "This is Nali. She's been my on-board astronomer for five years now. I've come to highly value her opinions on mapping routes, so figured she would be valuable to the meeting tonight."  
  
Nali smiled at Doppler, reaching a thin hand across the table to shake his. "I'm pleased to meet you, Dr…."  
  
"D-Doppler," he stuttered, taking her hand.  
  
"Well, Mr. Doppler, you've quite the mind. I look forward to working with you."  
  
He smiled at her, then turned back to the map. "As I was saying, the Malkay system is far safer as far as spacial interferences go."  
  
"And the resident population? What do we know about them?" Amelia raised an eyebrow at the crowd around the table.  
  
"Ttttthey tend to be pretty dosssssile," a serpentine captain hissed, "I've never experiencccced any trouble with them anyway."  
  
"Lovely," Amelia nodded, "Malkay system it is. We'll stop by Quanr port in three days to restock and refuel. Any objections gentlemen?"  
  
"None at the moment, ma'am," the stout captain spoke.  
  
"Very good then," Amelia said, standing, "We'll meet again in before we dock at port. Dismissed."  
  
The captains stood almost simultaneously, and advanced single file through the door. Doppler himself was about to leave until he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He turned to see Nali smiling shyly at him.  
  
"I'll see you at the next meeting, then? We can discuss the nearby systems then."  
  
"Oh, oh, most certainly."  
  
"Great. Goodnight, Dr. Doppler."  
  
"D-Delbert. Please call me Delbert," he offered, giving her a small grin.  
  
She smiled widely in return. "Of course. Goodnight, Delbert." With that, she turned and left the room for her ship.   
  
Delbert blinked a few times at the door. "They didn't make astronomers like that at the University, that's for sure," he muttered.  
  
"What was that?" Amelia approached from behind, one eye arched at him in inquisition.  
  
"Nothing, nothing," Delbert waved her comment off. He made to leave the room, walking past Raymond, who was still clutching his nasty reptile. The creature leapt out at a second chance at drawing Doppler's blood. Raymond had half a mind to let the lizard catch him, but Delbert jumped back far too quickly in surprise to cause any real damage anyway.  
  
"Hmm," Raymond stroked his chin, "She must not like the smell of clumsy buffoon. You best stay back, Doctor; you reek of it."   
  
Doppler was about to remark, but was cut off by Amelia's hand on his shoulder. "Come dear," she said, "I think you've had enough time playing with temperamental pets, and I've certainly had enough time putting up with temperamental captains." Doppler only nodded and began to exit the room, glaring once more at Raymond for good measure.  
  
  
  
"I will see you tomorrow then, Amelia, dear?" Raymond stood by the door, watching her retreat.  
  
"Regretfully, yes."  
  
Raymond frowned. "Amelia, I die a little inside when you say such things."  
  
*How many more until you're COMPLETELY dead?* she thought. "Goodnight, Captain."  
  
Raymond reached forward to gently nudge Amelia out of the room, and very artfully placed a hand on her left buttock, a motion which escaped neither Delbert, nor Amelia.  
  
The captain's stateroom door could easily be seen from the helm of the ship--Jake Cor was manning the evening shift as he watched his captain shoo out the last members of the commander's meeting. He winced as he watched Raymond's rather obvious attempt to grope the female captain in charge, who, from the looks of things, knew about it and was none to pleased. She swung her hand backward, claws raking across of the hand that so wrongly offended her. From the look on her face that followed, she was issuing a solid threat; from the look on his captain's face, it was a pretty painful one indeed. Before her accompanying Canian could add his two cents, which he looked positively ITCHING to do, the female grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to her ship, leaving the admonished captain to literally lick his wounds.  
  
*******  
  
Delbert glared at the ceiling while he listened to Amelia get ready for bed in the adjoining washroom. His evening had quickly deteriorated after dinner, coming to a climax of cruddiness at the meeting's finale, and the ceiling seemed as good enough object to take his frustration out on as any. His mind was racing as he lay stagnant, his hands tightly clasped and lying on his stomach as he counted each and every groove in the wood in attempts to soothe his irritability. He was so absorbed in counting from 55 to 56 and 57, that he didn't even notice Amelia had re-entered the room until she was lying there on the bed next to him.  
  
"You're still angry," she stated, staring at him with wide eyes.  
  
Delbert broke his evil staring contest with the ceiling and fixed his eyes on his wife. "You didn't tell me at the beginning that HE was going to be working this mission. You can't blame me for being angry about that."  
  
"Oh, for pity's sake; for the last time--I didn't know."  
  
Doppler pouted at the ceiling once more.  
  
"I don't see what the big deal is anyway. We're here to do a job."  
  
Delbert scowled at the largest fissure above him. "He was…was…OGLING at you."  
  
"He was not…" she began to protest, but then thought twice, "Ok, he was. But you were already aware that he was a disgusting, vile creature."  
  
"Exactly. You shouldn't have to associate with him."  
  
"He's an officer--I have no choice in the matter really."  
  
Delbert sighed. She was right, that much was true, but the thought of Captain Raymond staring down his wife like prey he was about to mercilessly ravage, was still enough to make his blood boil.  
  
"And what about you?" she peered at him, interrupting his turbulent thoughts, "You and that Nali woman seemed to be getting along extremely…well."  
  
"That is simply a gesture of respect between two academics. The relationship is purely professional--a meeting of the minds, nothing more."  
  
"And I suppose that's any different from the 'meeting of the minds' of two spacers?" she asked. He opened his mouth to answer, but then shut it, knowing, deep down, that she was right. But on the other hand, Nali didn't grab anything that didn't belong to her…  
  
"He didn't have to be so…'friendly,'" he muttered.  
  
"Ah, well, there's no reasoning with him sometimes," she said, pulling the covers up to her chin, "There are times when I think he came from a planet where morons evolved from idiots."  
  
He snickered at this and settled down next to her. Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again. "Well…if he tries to…er…reach for your rear end again…I…" he grumbled, trying to sound obstinate, despite the fact that Raymond was easily twice his size.  
  
"I'll do exactly what I threatened to do to him tonight," Amelia cut in, smiling wickedly. "You know me--I meant every word of it; every painful second."  
  
He winced, recalling her exact threat, word for word. No threat that involved "tear," "shove," and "sphincter" could possibly be good news. The idea, sick as it was, seemed to put his mind at ease, and he lied back on the pillows, suddenly tired. The day was done, and he resolved to put thoughts about bi-racial animosities, Procyon warriors, and lecherous captains behind him long enough to get a good nights rest. He felt Amelia curl up next to him, and he snaked a protective arm around her waist. It was times like this that he felt he was the luckiest man in the universe; everything was perfect just the way it was, and no one was going to spoil that.  
  
To be continued…  
  
Yola everyone! Long time no see! They've been keeping me beyond busy at school, so yes, this is painfully late. So, soooooo sorry. (If anyone's still reading anyway…) Big action planned for Ch. 4, I hope, so stick around.  
  
REally now, that wasn't Very paInfully tErrible, Was it? Let me know!  
  
Aloha,   
  
J. 


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4  
  
Disclaimer: Standard Jazz goes here--nothing special.  
  
Amelia was lying in bed, propped up against three down pillows. She was fully immersed in reading the battle plans that the fleet captains had come up with--in the light of the dozen or so candles she had lit, Delbert could see her brow furrowed in intense concentration. Her green eyes flicked across the page at a feverish pace as she raced to commit as much of the proposition to memory as possible; she paused only once to rub the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, wariness evident on her face. Doppler tugged at the collar of his shirt before deciding to suggest that his wife put away the maps before she completely wore herself out. Even the candles looked to be on their last days--they were little more than small nuggets of yellow wax burning as brightly as possible with only the inch and a half of wick they had left. The tiny light sources were slightly hypnotic as they cascaded beams to the furthest corners of the darkened room they shared, and Delbert stared at them a moment, trying to decide which approach would be best in convincing his normally proud wife that she really did need rest like every other creature in the universe. He caught a whiff of the candles' scent--it wasn't quite light, but it didn't overpower either. It was almost soothing, calming. It reminded Delbert quite a bit of the exotic smell of one the vendor's shops in the last spaceport they had stopped at. He remembered that creepy old woman and her fairytales…  
  
  
  
In the week or so that followed the briefing, Delbert had tried numerous things to keep his nerves calm as the small fleet approached the Procyon border; still, there were only so many calculations he could do and maps he could glance over. As the ships approached the enemy, it was putting a strain on the command structures limits, and it showed. Amelia, while she managed to keep most of her emotions veiled, still showed telltale signs of stress as she began to personally recount what had happened LAST time the empire had gone to battle with the Procyon armada. He had more than once caught her awake late at night, staring into the etherium, deep in her own horrifying memories. He even swore that such thoughts had made her ill one morning. To Delbert this made the situation all the more terrifying--sure, the premise of attack was scary enough, but the sheer thought of going head-to-head made his tough-as-nails wife worried sick; however afraid he was before--it was most assuredly increased two-fold. *What happened to my nice, quiet observatory life?* he thought as he emerged from his cabin to catch a breath of fresh air. He inhaled deeply, bur quickly succumbed to a coughing fit--Quanr port was one of the last places in the galaxy one would turn to for fresh air. Doppler peered over the side of the deck and took in the sight of the dirty, bustling spaceport. Raymond had been right: the port was decidedly less violent than Doppler's wildest dreams had imagined it to be--after all, Amelia and the others were running into no problem securing their supplies from a local vendor named Ziir. And at a fair price to boot! Amelia had, however, run into problems with the "unethical" face of Quanr when a portly gentlemen of middle age had approached her the previous evening while she was negotiating for foodstuffs and asked her how much her "services" would cost. After commenting that the spacer "costume" was a definite turn-on that he would gladly pay extra for, the offender received a quick and painful response--to the skull. Doppler winced. Enraged as he had been hearing that a man was inquiring about paid sex with his wife, he still slightly hoped that the man only had a broken nose or something. The fleet was going to return to their mission that evening after the refueling was finished. Amelia was currently off paying Ziir for his goods, and the rest of the commanders were making last minute adjustments to their vessels. For those crewmembers not directly involved in these tasks, shore leave was in effect. Delbert was about to return to his quarters when he heard footsteps approach him.  
  
"Delbert!" the voice cried out. Doppler turned around to see Nali smiling at him. The felind was dressed in long slacks and a white blouse; in one hand she carried a knapsack, in the other, a large map.  
  
"Nali," Delbert straightened up, "Hello."  
  
"I was going to go to the port," she explained, holding up the map which he could now see clearly read 'Tourist's Guide to Quanr: 1001 fabulous sights, sounds, and smells,' "I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I hear the place has a wonderful physics mechanistic antique shop--stuff your great-granddaddy probably used."  
  
  
  
Delbert swallowed and thought about the prospect--while the invite was enticing, he couldn't help but recall Raymond's reference to the port's organ trade and the desire for Canian organs.  
  
"Nali, it is a wonderful offer, but…"  
  
"C'mon, doctor," she pushed, "We could be stuck on these oversized tubs for awhile. We astronomers need to let our hair down every once in awhile."  
  
Doppler bit his lip. *Well, perhaps if it is only for an hour or so…*  
  
"Very well," Delbert said, straightening his vest, "I suppose a little time off the boat wouldn't be so dangerous. Besides, I would like to see if that shop has an old Tyseger Series Astrosimulator. I've always wanted to see one in real life."  
  
Nali smiled brightly at him. "Me too! I always wondered if they're really that ugly in person."  
  
*************  
  
Being a man of great stature, Maltor was entitled to only the finest whores that the Brothels of the Procyon Expanse had to offer. Tonight the Captain had the pleasure of a young vixen named Slaiu, who was about as fine a dame as he had seen this close to his people's borders. It would likely be the last pleasurable company the Captain would see until his troops unmercilessly and triumphantly seized control of their longtime enemies. Still, when the Procyons finally held control of the Terran empire, Maltor mused, there were bound to be hundreds of other luscious ladies with bountiful bosoms just waiting for a man of power such as himself. He smiled. He had heard lovely things about Lorian women. And felinds. And humans. The sheer thought of a night surrounded by all the women he could stand only made him desire the prostitute more at that very moment, and he set about to get his money's worth.   
  
*Yes, in a matter of days, I will be a lord, and every lady, every drubloon, everyTHING will be at my disposal. Run, run, my little naval piggies. Run right into my trap.*  
  
***********  
  
"…And the rat gave me a D-minus to boot!" Nali exclaimed as her and Delbert exited the antique shop. "I'm telling you, Professor Romeo is the most miserable little man in the galaxy. What I wouldn't give to shove my telescope up his nose." She stopped and blushed. "That was pretty unlady-like of me."  
  
Delbert laughed. "Quite, but understandable. I must say I agree with you 100%."  
  
"He fail you too?"  
  
"Nope. Scraped by with a C. Said he'd bet his life that I'd never see my doctorate, though."  
  
"Pfft. He told ME I'd never see my bachelor's," she remarked, skimming the marketplace.   
  
"Did you end up getting a doctorate?"  
  
"In astrophysics? No. I actually ended up getting a doctorate in mathematics. I was thinking about going back to the University to complete a thesis in astronomy though. Romeo's not still there, is he?"  
  
Doppler sighed. "I'm afraid so. Although, it was quite fantastic to see the look on his face when I had returned to the University last month for a guest lecture. Guess he's hoping the deities don't make good on his bet."  
  
Nali laughed. "No, I suppose he isn't." She brushed back a strand of hair, then pointed excitedly to a small stand across the street. "Hey, Bamaakian fortune teller."  
  
Doppler took off his glasses and wiped them off on his sleeve before returning them to his face. "Total rubbish," he said, "All fiction. None of their predictions are rooted in fact. None of it actually comes true."  
  
Nali laughed. "Tell that to my grandmother--she swears one of these mystics changed her 'life path.'" She waltzed up to the stand. "C'mon, Delbert, it's supposed to be fun."  
  
Doppler gave her a skeptic look.  
  
"Well, fine then," Nali grinned, "But I'm getting my fortune told."  
  
Doppler stood outside the small building as Nali disappeared inside of it.  
  
"Fortune telling. Fairytale nonsense," he scoffed, leaning up against the wall. Just as he was about to consult his pocket watch for the time, he heard a strange noise in the alleyway nearby. He jumped, but disregarded the noise as an errant stray pet. He reached for his watch again, only to almost drop the contraption when the noise sounded again, only louder. Doppler's mind immediately flew to visions of maniacs wielding sharp surgical tools perfect for extracting live organs…  
  
He quickly bolted indoors to see Nali seated before a rather old mystic with an enormous feather headdress. The mystic had both of Nali's hands in hers, which were perched just above the flame of a long, twisted candle.   
  
"Ahhhhhhhhh," said the mystic, "I see a time of great misfortune in your near future. You will come face to face with death itself. Follow the green light when this happens, child--it's VERY important…the green light…yesss. Should you do this, you will live to see a garden of wealth and an old wrong avenged."  
  
The mystic released Nali's hands, and the feline's eyes opened. "Wow…garden of wealth, huh?"  
  
"Ay, deary, but, heed my warning."  
  
"Right, right-- green light."  
  
The mystic nodded. She turned her gaze to Doppler. "Ahh, another. Sit, sit."  
  
Doppler put his hands out in front of him. "No, no. I was just watching."  
  
Nali sat him down in front of the old lady. "C'mon. Other than the fact that I might die should I not follow the right colored light, my fortune was pretty good. What have you got to lose?"  
  
Delbert was about to protest when the mystic grabbed his hands and shut her eyes in concentration. Doppler rolled his eyes at the silence that followed, but jumped when the lady finally spoke.  
  
"Hmmmm…I see the potential for pain and suffering within the fortnight---do not tell your enemies what you know to be true…they will use it against you."  
  
"The only danger I'm in is if the organ traders find out I have excellent kidneys," Doppler grumbled.  
  
"Ah, but you will play a role in a task most uncharacteristic of your personality. You do it for the sake of one-- but the benefit is for more than you know of now."  
  
Doppler sighed irritably. "And what does that mean?"  
  
"You will know when the time comes," the mystic breathed, "And best you work on that patience of yours, you'll need it when they come."  
  
"Who? The Procyons?" Nali asked.  
  
The mystic laughed. "No."  
  
She released Doppler's hands and smiled at him. "It would be unwise of me to give away anymore. I'll take all the fun out of the surprises."  
  
"Good ones, I hope?" Doppler inquired half-heartedly.  
  
"Some. Oh, and this Aenid character…she really DOES hate you as much as you think…but, you'll convince yourself of that within the year."  
  
Doppler's eyes widened. *How in the galaxy…?*  
  
Nali laughed. "Whoa, looks like you said something serious. We'd better get going before the poor guy's eyeballs pop out of his head." She handed the woman a few coins and the two of them left.  
  
"Well, what did you think? You gotta have a little faith in her now. The lady she mentioned…"  
  
Doppler shook his head. "How she knew her name, I don't know, but I hardly think she's capable of seeing the future. Who were the "they" she kept talking about?"  
  
"Collegues? Pirates? Harem girls?" Nali smiled.  
  
"Hmph. Exactly. It could be anything. Superstitious nonsense."  
  
"Why'd you come inside then?"  
  
"Well, I…I heard a noise."  
  
"A noise?"  
  
"Yes. In the alley."  
  
"Like a rat or something?"  
  
"Like an illegal organ-trader!"  
  
Doppler nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the noise again. "Th-there it is!"  
  
Nali brandished a broken pipe she found in a trash bin and turned the corner to face the alley head-on. She raised the pipe in the air and swung it down, only to hit an old industrial waste container, long since empty. From it, a shin-high four-legged creature darted out into the street and away from it's potential threat.  
  
Nali lowered her weapon, and turned in Doppler's direction, smirking. "Better watch out, Delbert. Might loose an intestine."  
  
Doppler scowled and tromped off back toward the ship, with Nali in tow, laughing.  
  
"Delbert? Delbert? Dear, what's wrong?" Amelia's voice pulled him out of his reverie.  
  
"Oh, nothing."  
  
"You're not thinking about that mystic, are you?"  
  
Doppler did a double take. "How did you know about that?"  
  
"Nali mentioned it when I was onboard the Cassandra yesterday."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Mmm. She said you were afraid of that someone was going to harvest your organs illegally," Amelia smirked, mirth flickering in her tired eyes.  
  
Delbert glowered. "You said yourself that the place was unsightly."  
  
"Teaming with bottom-dwelling perverts, yes. However I didn't see one liver floating around the whole port."  
  
"They sell on the BLACK market. They don't make their sales obvious. I very well could have died, thank you very much."  
  
Amelia smiled in mock sympathy, "Well I thank my lucky stars that you managed to escape the clutches of a potential harvester. Imagine the prices I'd have to pay just to put you back together again. Hmmm…I might have looked into getting you a more stellar upper body, I think. I wonder if biceps cost by the pound?"  
  
"Not funny," he sighed, climbing into bed as she laughed. She tucked her maps away in her bedside drawer and blew out the candles one by one. She snuggled up next to her husband who was lying on his back, his arms crossed. She frowned when he refused to warm up to her advances.  
  
"Oh come now, I didn't mean it. I really am glad nothing happened to you."  
  
He sighed again, then wrapped an arm around her. "Thank you."  
  
She smiled and ran a hand across his chest, smoothing out his nightshirt. She had just about finished when he spoke again.  
  
"How many er…pushups would you say it would take before I had a 'stellar upper body?'"  
  
Amelia grinned. "Oh, dear, I'm afraid you'll be an old, old man before that happens--and you'll have to stop training there…you might throw your back out."  
  
Pouting, he eyed his arms as if to see for himself just what sort of condition they were currently in.  
  
"Oh, don't be sore about it," Amelia purred, "I like my men a little lean. Makes me feel more…powerful."  
  
He chuckled.  
  
"And you know how much I love being in control."  
  
"Too true, Captain."  
  
"Now shut up and kiss me, crewman, before I really give you something to pout about."  
  
  
  
"Aye, aye, Captain. Always willing to oblige."  
  
He bent over her to place a kiss on her lips, and in the same second was greeted with a rush of bright light, the creek of door hinges, and his face making contact with the pillow where his wife's head had been only moments ago. He blinked in surprise, then turned to see Amelia glaring at the door, which was wide open to reveal Turgevny in the doorway.   
  
"Mr. Turgevny!" she exclaimed, "This is highly…"  
  
"I apologize, Capton," he breathed, interrupting her tirade, "But ze Procyons are approaching off ze port bow."  
  
Amelia was off like a shot, grabbing her uniform and rushing to the washroom where she could quickly change. It seemed like a mere few seconds before she emerged again, her energy fueled by adrenaline. Doppler quickly picked himself up from the bed and threw on a wrinkled shirt and barely matching trousers. He grabbed a vest on his way out the door, not bothering to even fasten the buttons on it. When he emerged on deck, he could see Amelia at the helm, peering at the oncoming Procyon fleet through a scope. She barked a few orders at the helmsman who quickly banked the ship to the left.   
  
"Full speed," Amelia ordered, "And whatever you do, helmsman, keep our sides from being readily hit."  
  
"Aye, Captain."  
  
The navigator pulled at his uniform collar. "We're going TOWARD them, Captain?"  
  
Amelia set her lips in a thin line. "We are here, crewman, as the first and possibly only line of defense between the Terran and Procyon border. So unless you have a better idea that will keep these ships from overtaking the outer rim planets, I thought I'd be so bold as to engage the enemy I was sent hundreds of miles to defeat."  
  
The young man blushed. "Of course, Captain. Sorry, ma'am."  
  
With that, there were few more words on the upper deck, though the main deck and rafters were a cacophony of sounds, orders, and curses. The soldiers struggled to get the solar sails out as fast as they could while the gunmen loaded and warmed up their side weapons. Some of the spacers were very obviously freshly woken from a sound sleep--many were out of uniform, and one plump sailor was even in a pair of fuzzy green slippers. Delbert rushed over to his wife's side.  
  
"I thought we weren't anticipating this for a few more days at least," he spoke to her in hushed tones.  
  
"We weren't," Amelia said bluntly, "But the Procyons have a way of being inconvenient like that. They truly are boils on the galaxy's ass." She paused to order all crewmen to arm themselves with personal weapons, in the case of a hand-to-hand fight. She turned back to face Delbert. "I really hoped they'd be predictable for once."  
  
"Well," he said, trying to offer up as much support as possible, "We are in good hands. Green badge of honor, my dear. That's no small feat."  
  
Amelia closed her eyes in thought. "Delbert, I really…"  
  
BAM! The ship jolted under the force of a Procyon shot and half the crew was sent flying off their feet.  
  
"Helmsman!" Amelia roared, "I thought I told you to keep our sides clear of shots!"  
  
"I did, ma'am!" the helmsman insisted, "The shot came hit us on the rear."  
  
"The rear?" Amelia muttered, whirling behind her. She could see the presence of seven Procyon vessels looming just at the back of the fleet. "Damn," she cursed, "I told Captain Emasia to keep an eye out BEHIND us." She turned to Turgevny. "Mr. Turgevny, inform the rear half of the convoy that they are to attack the ships behind us. We will take the other end of the split to meet the enemy ahead."  
  
"Aye, Capton," the first mate nodded, heading off to relay the message to the other Captains. In a matter of minutes, the fleet was split into two, each half off to try their luck with one end of the enemy's ambush.  
  
In all actuality, it wasn't but a few minutes before the group in Amelia's charge met with the approaching Procyon ships, but to the feline captain, it seemed like a small eternity. Images of previous battles with the foe…the blood…carnage…her comrades falling one by one…she felt a wave of nausea come on, but managed to fight it down and bellow "FIRE!" as her ship came within range of the leading Procyon vessel.  
  
From that shot forth, chaos ensued. It was merely a cat and mouse game of whizzing by the enemy ships and firing as many rounds as possible without getting caught up to at first, but this tactic quickly wore thin to both combatants and laser cannons were soon traded in for hand blasters as Terran citizen and Procyon alike engaged one another on the decks of the warring ships. It wasn't long before one Procyon vessel was all ablaze, casting a sinister glow on the bodies that littered the deck of one of the nearby Terran ships. Amelia had just finished firing a round of shots at two Procyon Lieutenants, and it wasn't until she saw the two men dead at her feet that she remembered--the plans! All of her tactical plans were still in her room. If they were recovered, the Procyons would have access to codes, escape routes, and rendezvous points, among other important details. With a grunt of frustration at herself and the current situation, she fled as fast as she could to her quarters. When she got there, she found that she wasn't the only occupant the room contained. Already, someone was raiding the weapons locker in her stateroom, and foolishly left their back unguarded.  
  
"Hold it right there or I'll blast your kidneys out through your naval," Amelia growled, cocking his pistol at the intruder, who had little but the locker door for protection. Two hands went flying in the air, and the intruder peaked around the door to face her.  
  
"Delbert?!" she exclaimed, lowering her weapon. She had just threatened to blow her husband's innards out! "What are you doing?"  
  
"I figured it would be wise to get a weapon," he shrugged, "The trick is finding one I can easily use."  
  
Amelia approached the locker and thrust her own pistol into his hands. "Take this," she said as she reached for a larger weapon in the locker. She made her way quickly to the bedroom and pulled out her plans. As she walked back into the stateroom, she gave them to Doppler.  
  
"Doctor, your job is to guard these with your life. Whatever you do, do not let the Procyons get them."  
  
Delbert looked dumbfounded for a moment. "I-I-are you sure you…"  
  
"Please, Delbert," she said, her face serious, "For me."  
  
Doppler shoved the maps into his pants pocket and cocked his gun. "For you, dear, anything."  
  
Amelia smiled at him and gave him a small kiss before the two of them reemerged onto the ship's deck. With a wink of "good luck," Amelia headed toward the brunt of the fight, while the doctor maintained a defensive position on the upper deck.   
  
  
  
Doppler knew he wasn't the best shot in the world, but he was getting the job done for the most part. His confidence slowly grew as he managed to fend off more and more invaders from the upper deck of the ship. He was just about to take a perfectly placed shot at a burly man armed with a sword and gun. One clean shot--bang! The antagonist was down on the ground, trying to staunch the blood that was pouring from his intestinal area. It was messy business to be sure, but a necessary one, so Delbert tried to think about the process as little as possible. Another Procyon clad all in black began to ascend the stairs to the upper deck, and Doppler took aim and shot.  
  
Nothing.  
  
*Nothing?!* Doppler's mind screamed, *It's supposed to shoot, damnit!* His eyes flew to the ammunition cell near the barrel. Empty. Now faced with having to guard a very important set of documents with a useless weapon, Delbert made a run for it. He could feel the Procyon pursuing him right behind him, and in the heat of the moment, the usually cautious doctor took the only way out he could think of.  
  
He jumped ONTO the closely neighboring Procyon ship.  
  
The good doctor wasn't nearly as young as he used to be (and not even very good at acrobatics in his youth to boot), so the very messy landing he made on the main deck cost him the time he would have gained while the assailant made his way over to his home vessel. Doppler weaved around the bodies and the small battles on the main deck and headed for the shelter below, hoping he could lose the Procyon soldier in the corridors. His plan, it seemed, only served to further trap him, and the doctor was soon off on a scramble for his life. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a Terran soldier finish off his own opponent and cock his gun in order to pick off the charging one. Doppler prayed that the spacer would shoot the pursuer before he himself got taken down, but his prayers were only met with brief pain, then darkness.  
  
******  
  
Amelia had just about forced the Procyons from her ship. Though she wouldn't call it a tremendous victory, she was fairly certain that the enemy had been given a sufficient enough beating that they would soon retreat. She was right about her little victory of attrition, as she soon saw deep blue flags go up on the remaining Procyon vessels--their sign of retreat. The ships began to disembark, leaving only a few members behind, still fighting on the Empire's ships. These men would be taken as prisoners of war--or to the morgue. At this point, Amelia almost didn't care which. Turgevny had finished off a man who, despite having his arm amputated the hard way, still managed to stand and fight to the bitter end. With that, the remaining men surrendered to the Empire, with the exception of one man, who saw it more fit to throw himself overboard and into the depths of the etherium than live as a prisoner to the system he was taught to destroy. Turgevny approached his captain and awaited her orders.  
  
"Take the prisoners below deck and see to it that they are tightly bound. The court's shall deal with them in time," she said.  
  
Turgevny nodded. "Capton. You are hurt. You should see ze medical officor."  
  
Amelia's head was spinning, but she dismissed the advice with the wave of her hand. "I'm fine. For now, we must…"  
  
Turgevny was thankful for his innate sharp reflexes. Using them to catch his captain before she hit the deck in a dead faint surely prevented what would have been a large bruise.  
  
******  
  
Wherever he was, it was warm and quiet, though the smell was very exotic and somewhat unpleasant. Doppler groaned, then opened his eyes to see a pair of Procyon ones staring right back at him.  
  
"Argh!" he gasped, sitting up quickly. The Procyon clapped a hand over Doppler's mouth to hinder the noises of any further expressions of surprise.  
  
"Ssssssssh. If they find you, they will surely murder the both of us."  
  
Doppler blinked twice at the gentleman, pondering whether the Procyon was mad, or if he were the lunatic himself.  
  
"I found you below deck," the man explained, "You had been shot. You've been here for three days."  
  
"Where is here?' Doppler croaked, his voice slightly hoarse.  
  
The man handed a bowl to him--it was then that he associated the strong smell with soup. He looked at it skeptically and the young man laughed.   
  
"It's not poisoned. See?" he reached for a spoon and ladled some into his mouth. "I have no interest in poisoning you anyway."  
  
"I am your enemy."  
  
  
  
"NO. You are enemy to all the foolish overlords who want to take over planets that aren't theirs. You are no threat to me. I just wanted to live out my life back home with my family and lady I love."  
  
Doppler relaxed a bit, but his facial expression clearly demanded more information.   
  
"I am Dr. Kolor. I was a physician on Polteca. I'm serving as chief medical officer on board the Llao. That's where you are now."  
  
Doppler pursed his lips in thought. "If you don't want to harm me," he began, "Why are you opting to serve the Procyon Armada?"  
  
Kolor laughed. "Opting? Many of the soldiers here didn't OPT to be here. We were drafted. Forced to go. It was my service or my mother's life. Threatened her with a laser rifle, they did. I'm not a soldier--I make my living in saving people, not killing them. To be perfectly fair, you don't look like a naval man yourself."  
  
"I'm not," Delbert confessed.  
  
"Then why did you have all those tactical plans in your pocket?" Kolor asked, holding up Amelia's maps.  
  
Doppler gasped. One simple task, and he failed.  
  
Kolor grinned, then handed the maps to Doppler. "They're yours, of course, but I'd recommend you destroy them. I will do my best to keep you here, hidden, but should they find you…"  
  
Doppler nodded. The man had a point.   
  
"But for now," Kolor continued, "You should rest. I have duty shifts between   
  
08 00 and 20 00 everyday, so you'll have to stay in here and stay perfectly quiet. Other than emergencies, you'll be free to exercise or eat in here as you wish."  
  
"What if someone comes in?"   
  
"They leave me alone for the most part. Not many crewmen want to make conversation with a doctor. Too much boring talk for them." He crossed the room and made for the door. "I have some patients to check on. Stay quiet and rest. I'll see what I can do about getting you and some of the other Terran prisoners off at the next spaceport we stop at."  
  
"Thank you for all your efforts, Dr. Kolor."  
  
"Not a problem…I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name…?"  
  
"Doppler. Dr. Delbert Doppler."  
  
"Well, rest up. Dr. Doppler. I'll return soon." With that, the unlikely ally left the room.  
  
Doppler sniffed one more at the soup and took a sip. The taste was as strong as the smell, but it was hearty, and he was hungry, so he ate up, thankful for his luck, but nonetheless fearful for his life.  
  
To be continued…  
  
Whoo…it's been a long, long time, I know. Truth is, the semester SUCKED, and I was forced to work my ever-lovin' butt off. Then there's work. And my Dad's untimely heart attack. But anyway, as promised, here's Chapter 4. Thanks to all the reviewers, especially Vic and Tmyres. Now the chapter's finished, girl…I want A/D snuggling from you!! J Everybody go harass her to update (I know I can count on you, Vic ;) ). Well, thanks for all the patience people…lots of love in the New Year!  
  
Aloha,  
  
J. 


	5. Chapter 5

Ch.5  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own much. Please don't sue me. Oh, and Tmyres--you can end your hunger strike. :)   
  
In honor of my 20th, my gift to you. Remember, it's the thought that counts. ;)  
  
There was a slight rush of cool air as she felt someone lift the covers from her body. She was about to shrug it off and continue her sleeping, for she felt as if she hadn't gotten a good night's rest in years; this desire to return to dreamland was interrupted, however, when she felt two cold, COLD fingers prod her thigh.  
  
Amelia hissed in response to both cold and pain. Not thinking, she bat her claws in the direction of the offender, catching them on his hand. The person with the cold hands yelped and jumped back, holding his palm.  
  
"Hurts, does it?" the wounded man, also known as Dr. Maximillian St. Grove, the ship's doctor asked, as he sucked on the scrape he had received from his captain.   
  
Amelia blinked a few times, then grimaced at the doctor. "I was more concerned about the temperature of your hands. You'd do well to warm them before poking at a patient."  
  
St. Grove laughed. "Well, with all that damned book-knowledge about bandages and colds and Sidarian Fever, there's little room to remember such simplicities, Captain," he joked, "You'll have to forgive me--not much brain room left."  
  
Amelia gave a sly grin before yawning than gently touching her offending leg. "How long was I out?" she asked.  
  
"Nearly 48 hours, Capton," Turgevny spoke up from the corner where he was watching the scene.   
  
"TWO DAYS!?" Amelia sat up like a shot. Her head reeled in response, but she managed to focus her glare on her first mate long enough to demand why he allowed her to nap so long.  
  
"Easy, Captain," St. Grove said, "You've had some substantial blood loss. Your left femoral vein was severed. Had to stitch you up."  
  
"How long until I can resume command?" Amelia asked, unfazed at the news that the physician had taken a needle and thread to her.  
  
"Oh, you can return today if you'd like," the doctor reassured, "You'll have to take it easy on the jumping off banisters and swinging from the rigging for awhile though. No swashbuckling."  
  
Amelia nodded. It was a small price to pay. Though she wouldn't readily admit it, she didn't quite feel up to somersaulting from the heights of the ship anyway.  
  
"Very well then," Amelia said, tossing back the covers on her bed and throwing her legs over the side, "If you would be so kind gentlemen, I'll get into a clean uniform."  
  
St. Grove looked nervous for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Actually, Captain, there was one small matter I wanted to discuss with you before you returned to duty..."  
  
Amelia raised an eyebrow in a gesture of half-curiosity, half-annoyance. "Well, what is it?"  
  
The doctor glanced at Turgevny, rung his hands, and faced the captain. "I think it best to discuss this matter in private."  
  
Amelia's previous gesture only intensified, and she briefly stared at Turgevny. "If you could please, Mr. Turgevny?" she gestured toward the door.  
  
Turgevny nodded once to show her that he understood, then left the captain's quarters.   
  
Amelia then turned to the physician. "Now, what is so important that my first mate could not listen in?"  
  
St. Grove rubbed his neck in embarrassment. "Well, I didn't mean for it to come off that way--I just thought you'd prefer I have this chat with you alone."  
  
"We're alone," Amelia spread her arms to indicate that there was no person within their vicinity, "So chat."  
  
St. Grove chuckled, the exhaled. "Well, I really don't know how to best put this, given the situation and all. I can't say that I've ever had trouble like this on a ship before."  
  
Amelia rubbed her eyes at the doctor's cryptic words. "Dr. St. Grove, I mean this with the utmost respect: get to the bloody point."  
  
St. Grove bit his lip. "I believe, well...I'm almost certain..."  
  
"I'm giving you two words. Sum it up in two words," Amelia growled. This man was impeding her command progress!  
  
"You're with child."  
  
Amelia paused for a second, as if the doctor's very words were unidentifiable to her brain. *Well, now...*  
  
"Captain," St. Grove spoke, "Are you alright? Say something."  
  
Amelia opened her mouth to speak, closed it, opened it again, and said, without blinking once, "That was three."  
  
"What?" St. Grove stared at his captain.  
  
"I said two words," Amelia muttered as she stood and hobbled over to her large window, "That was three."  
  
St. Grove licked his lips. "Yes, well..." He watched as his captain continued to stare out of the window as they flew through the etherium. "You're worried about that?"  
  
"Pardon?" Amelia said, somewhat distracted.  
  
"Well with all due respect, Captain, I just gave you huge, monumental--LIFE ALTERING news! And you're nitpicking my word count?"  
  
Amelia turned to look at the doctor. "I understand the implications of your announcement, Dr. St. Grove. I don't know how exactly you wish me to respond, though. If you're waiting for tears or something along those lines, I'm afraid you'll be waiting a good long while."  
  
St. Grove shuffled his feet. "Well, maybe not TEARS. But something."  
  
Amelia turned back to the window. "I will deal with this at a more appropriate time. For now, I must return to my duties."  
  
St. Grove gave a start. "Captain! Surely you're not thinking about returning to battle?"  
  
Amelia turned back to the doctor with a look that clearly said, "Yes, and what of it?"  
  
"Captain, as the head physician I implore that you reconsider! Do you have any idea what could happen if you were to have another encounter with the Procyons again? You got very lucky this time!"  
  
"And, doctor, do you have any idea what could happen if I DON'T encounter the Procyons again? I've been given a duty to protect the outer rim planets and bring as many of my crewmembers back home safely as possible. I didn't plan for this to happen; I don't see any justification in putting many lives at risk for my own safety."  
  
St. Grove weighed the argument in his head. Finally, he shook his head. "I have a new appreciation for you, Captain. I don't know if I would be as strong and selfless when it came to my son. And with your husband missing, I can only imagine the weight on your shoulders."  
  
Amelia flinched. Somewhere in between her two days of rest, she had awoken briefly, and remembered hearing only that the fleet was still in tact, that she was injured and being sedated for the next few hours to patch up the wounds, and that Delbert had gone missing in the fray. Now in the light of the impending conflict with a determined and strong Procyon enemy and the added addition of this new news, Delbert's absence only rung louder in her muddled head. She needed to find her husband--*Or his body,* she thought with a grimace--but for now, she had to put her own interests aside, as the Procyons were only one attack away from taking fistfuls of the Terran empire.  
  
Amelia tapped her foot twice before speaking, trying to take any and all emotion out of her voice--she wouldn't show this doctor that the turn of events disturbed her. "I must insist on doctor-patient confidentiality on this particular matter. You understand, it's tough enough work being a woman and commanding respect from over 500 men. I feel that this will only put a damper on the faith of any nay-sayers in the fleet."  
  
St. Grove nodded. Female officers were a rare entity to be sure, and the very best ones needed to be tougher and more impassive than their male contemporaries. Revealing her pregnancy to the crew would only help to reinforce that the head of the fleet was a woman, an idea that didn't necessarily sit well with the more chauvinistic members of the navy. "I am bound by my oath not to breathe a word to anyone."  
  
"Good. I'm trusting you with very delicate matters here, doctor. I pray you will not let me down."  
  
"Most assuredly not, Captain."  
  
"Good, man. Now, I must ask you to leave so that I may change into a clean uniform. The sooner I hang some Procyon bastards, the sooner we can all return home."  
  
"Aye, Captain," St. Grove bowed slightly as he took his leave.  
  
Amelia stood in the middle of her bedroom for a moment, trying to take everything in now that the physician was gone. She silently calculated numbers in her head: she had started the voyage with 597 men, estimated she lost 52 to death or capture, lost one husband to god only knew what circumstances...that left 544 men to take into Procyon front lines. She would be held accountable for what happened to the 544 men, and decided that that compliment would not be large enough to face the Procyons alone. She decided that she would gather the other captains and request a change of course that would allow her to enlist the help of the Folon armada, an outer rim planet a few hundred thousand parsecs from the border. She pulled on a new blouse and jacket, and bit her lip as she fastened it together with shiny brass buttons. *If I can get three or four ships from them, I can increase the fleet by about another 200 soldiers. So hopefully that will be enough men to take down the Procyons, retake the prisoners of war, and bring back my husband so I can give him a stern talking to about scaring me to within an inch of my life. And then there's the matter of my little "stowaway..." But one problem at a time, Amelia old girl; for now, let's try to figure out how to organize a meeting with the other officers and NOT get groped by Captain Raymond.*  
  
************  
  
Delbert was deeply engrossed in the book in front of him. While Kolor was out, he was forced to be extremely quiet, and thus spent his loads of free time reading the various medical texts the doctor had spread around the room. It was no book on the black holes of the Cappa system, but hell, it would do. He had read in greater settings before, in places far less closed in and stale, with company far better than the tank of slugs Kolor kept on a bedside shelf. He let his thoughts drift to one of the numerous times he and Amelia had picnicked in his small gardens. He had placed her favorite pastries in a small basket along with two china teacups and saucers. He made a pot of hot earl gray tea and they spent the morning on a soft linen blanket even as the sky began to turn gray. Amelia sat on the blanket reading classical stories about the etherium while he laid down, his head in her lap. They would throw in comments here and there, dotting the fantastic stories with jokes and tales of their pasts. He would pour her a cup of tea for every one she finished and she would break off pieces of strawberry-purp tart and feed it to him as he closed his eyes and imagined the scenes she was describing off the worn pages. They were about halfway into a yarn about a whirlwind romance between a captain and a royal family member when the sky suddenly opened up and rain came pouring down on them in droves. The two of them quickly gathered up their picnic remnants and ran for the house. Despite their speed, they entered the mansion soaking wet, and stood in the hallway, looking at each other as if the other were a drowned rat. They had laughed at the situation before going to change. They came back downstairs shivering, had lit a fire in the large fireplace in his study, and had spent the rest of the day cuddled together, trying to conserve body heat. He had held her cold hands for hours, trying to alleviate the cold that remained on her slender fingertips. The longing that resulted from the memory became a little too much in the silent, lonely cabin, so Doppler returned to his reading. The topics were sort of distressing, but were nonetheless interesting. *Mother would be proud,* he mused, turning the page to encounter a detailed diagram of the female body and the unsavory regions in which one may contract a Placian bacterial rash, *She did want me to go to medical school after all.* He had just started a paragraph on typical causes of anemia in females when Kolor returned from his shift.  
  
"Good evening, Dr. Doppler," he said, closing the door to the cabin with his foot. In his hands he held a small pot that had a good deal of steam coming from it. "I've brought dinner."  
  
Delbert peered into the pot as Kolor put it on the small table next to the bed. It appeared to be some sort of roast with some sort of vegetable swimming in some sort of liquid. Kolor pulled two bowls from a small shelf above his desk and placed them next to the pot. "Before we eat, however," he said, pulling his stethoscope from around his neck and placing it in his ears, "I need to check up on you."  
  
Doppler frowned. He was frightfully hungry, as the doctor could only feed him a real meal onec a day without looking suspicious. Nonetheless he relinquished to Kolor's request and pulled off his shirt, allowing the doctor to both listen to his heartbeat and examine his healing wound. Kolor made quick work of his duties, then served up two bowls of the food.   
  
"Reading about illnesses in the female," Kolor commented, gesturing to the open book.  
  
Doppler wiped his mouth with the handkerchief in his pant pocket and nodded. "I finished the one on diseases of limb and flipper this morning."  
  
"Have you gotten to the section about Urideckian childbirth?"  
  
"No. Interesting?"  
  
Kolor laughed. "I would say 'disgusting' is a more appropriate word. I'd go into detail, but I fear it may cause us both to lose our dinner."  
  
Delbert grimaced. He'd have a skip that section.  
  
Kolor chuckled at the doctor's expression. "It's even worse in real life, trust me." He chewed on some meat before speaking again. "I noticed this morning that you're married."  
  
Doppler smiled. "Oh, yes."  
  
"How long?"  
  
"Almost three months."  
  
"Ahh, a newlywed," Kolor's eyebrows raised in curiosity, "I plan on proposing marriage to my fair lady when I return from this horrid voyage. Any advice?"  
  
Delbert burst into laughter. "Believe me, I'm the LAST guy in the universe you want advice from on that subject matter."  
  
Kolor snickered. "I see. Well, what's she like? Lovely? Smart? Do you have any children?"  
  
"Oh, she's ravishingly beautiful and utterly brilliant. And no, we have no children."  
  
"Any plans on having any?"  
  
Doppler paused. "Probably not."  
  
"Hmm. That's a shame. I, for one, want many children. I say, four at least."  
  
"Four? At LEAST?" Doppler asked incredulously.  
  
"There's no greater measure of a man than the family he has," Kolor smiled, "Plus, I like kids."  
  
"I'll say."  
  
"Four too many for you?" the doctor grinned.  
  
"A few too many, yes. My wife and I keep very busy in our jobs."  
  
"Oh? What does she do?"  
  
"Oh, she's a spa...er, uh...ssss...seamstress! She's a seamstress!" Doppler blinked, hoping that Kolor would think nothing of his falter. He had almost given away information that could have worked against him, and though he trusted Kolor, he could never be too safe.  
  
"A seamstress, eh? Sounds like hard work, but surely three or four kids wouldn't pose to much of a problem?"  
  
*For a normal 'seamstress,' no. My seamstress battles Procyons for months at a time for a living.* "Well, my wife doesn't seem like the type to want too many children anyway."  
  
"Ah, that's too bad. I'm telling you, Doppler, I have big plans once I'm finished with my tour here. I'm going to have a large wedding with my whole family--all 236 of us!--my new wife and I are going to live in a house on the south ridge in Polteca. I'll work at the renowned clinic there, and she'll keep house and raise my lovely children."  
  
"You really have thought this out, haven't you?" Doppler said as he finished off the last of his meal.  
  
"Oh, yes," Kolor sighed, "We've even picked names."  
  
Delbert smiled. The two of them deposited their spoons in their empty bowls and sighed with the satisfaction of receiving a hot meal. There was a comfortable silence for a minute or so before Kolor spoke again. "Now that we've both had a good meal, I think it's on to business. We'll be docking at Seku spaceport in three days; it's a pretty big place, so I think it may be possible to get you and some of your comrades out."  
  
"You want to break them out?"  
  
"Of course. There's about 12 of them being held in the brig. If we play our cards right, we can get them out and take a ship back beyond your borders. My plan is sketchy right now, but as long as you're willing to help..."  
  
Doppler swallowed hard. It sounds risky. Dangerous--deadly, even. But even so, the Llao would dock someday, deep in Procyon territory, and he would stand a much lesser chance of returning to his home, which, in the cramped quarters of the physician's quarters, seemed all too inviting. "I-I can try."  
  
Kolor gave a small grin. "I can't guarantee it'll be easy...or successful. But here's what I have in mind..."  
  
To be continued...  
  
Hi, all! It's been awhile, no? I haven't forgotten you or this story--I'm simply in the throws of midterm bleh right now. Anyway, I just wanna take this opportunity to thank all my loyal readers. You guys have been awesome and so encouraging! Special thanks go to Helgmelia, Tmyres, Vic, and Ashcountry1987. You make this all worthwhile.  
  
Aloha,   
  
J. 


	6. Chapter 6

Ch.6  
  
Disclaimer: I officially own two cats and a work vest with some pocket lint in it. That is all.  
  
Amelia finished sprucing up her appearance in the mirror. She was meeting with the head Folonian General in two hours; the tall, birdlike man was an amiable sort of guy with glistening white feathers and a squawking sort of laugh. When Amelia and the fleet approached Folon, they were greeted with only the utmost cooperation from the General, who provided proper landing arrangements at the main capital port and had arranged for the scheduled meeting with her in order to discuss his further role in the defense of the Terran border. Gazing at herself for the umpteenth time, she smoothed her jacket, trying to arrange it so not the slightest crease showed. She pulled her long white gloves on a little tighter and looked down to inspect her polished, scuffless boots one last time. Confident that she looked the part of a confident captain with nothing more on her mind than the safety and prosperity of the empire and queen she served, she left her bedroom in favor of her stateroom. Once there, she settled down at her desk, and began to study the Terran-Procyon border for the third time that morning; it had been the sixteenth such time that she had stared intently at the brown ink lines of the charts and traced her compass between the carefully drawn circles that were meant to be planets. Why she continued to dwell on the map was questionable; secretly, her subconscious pined for a quick fix for all her problems and had somehow equated that panacea with staring blankly at hand drawn star systems. She was just about to calculate the distances between Folon and the Border for the sixteenth time when a firm knock sounded on her stateroom door.   
  
*Eight A.M. on the dot. Must be Turgevny with the morning report.*  
  
"Come in," she called, allowing her eyes to leave the map as she leaned back in her chair. True to her predictions, Turgevny strolled in the room and stood before her desk. He stood straight and saluted until he was offered a nod from his Captain that signaled for his ease.   
  
"Repairs to ze Enchantia are completed," he began, speaking of another of her fleet's ships. "Capton Isle has returned ze borrowed engineers to Capton Goddard."  
  
Amelia nodded.  
  
"I've reminded all of ze other Captons of your rendezvous vith ze Falonian General, Kaz. Capton Raymond requests an escort for you. He recommends..." he winced slightly, as if he knew Amelia would find the request unsavory, "...Himself. Of course."  
  
"Tell Captain Raymond that his recommendation has been dually noted and denied. Anything else?"  
  
"Ze chef requests your permission to replace ze foodstuffs onboard."   
  
Amelia smirked. "It's the navy's money. Tell him to get all the damn food he needs."  
  
Turgevny cracked a grin. "Very good, Capton."  
  
Amelia stood. "Now I have a question for you: do I look presentable for the meeting?"  
  
Turgevny looked her over quickly. "Yes. Ze uniform vill vork perfectly. And may I be so bold as to say you look to be in good health. I vould expect differently from a voman in your condition."  
  
Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. "And what, pray tell, is THAT supposed to mean?"  
  
"Perhaps I am mistaken?" he said, "I vas under the impression zat you vere pregnant, Capton."  
  
Amelia pounded a fist on the table in a fit of rage. "Blast that Dr. St. Grove! He promised me FULL confidentiality! I'll have his license for this!"  
  
Turgevny took a step back, but smiled. "Forgive me, Capton, but St. Grove has kept his vord. He has said nothing to me."  
  
"Then who told you?" Amelia hissed.  
  
"No one."  
  
Amelia looked unconvinced. Turgevny laughed. "Capton, I myself have seven children, remember. I have had the experience of seeing a voman vith child as many times. I am...almost an expert at spotting such zings I vould say."  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
"You are tired and appear slightly pale. Zis is from vhat my people called 'Derbacht Stohlle'--ze illness of ze morning hours. I have noticed zat your eating habits are slightly different zan zose of past journeys. Plus, you vere touching your abdomen a few times on ze bridge yesterday-- albeit unconsciously."  
  
Amelia's eyes widened. "And you could deduce that?"  
  
"Seven children IS a lot."  
  
Amelia chuckled, shaking her head in part amusement and part relief that she could confide her secret in someone who would likely not tell anyone else. "Well, I wouldn't believe it if I didn't know those observational skills were the same ones that make you such a stellar second in command."  
  
"I zank you."  
  
Amelia nodded, then let her expression slip to one for serious discussion. "Seeing as your 'sharp mind' has so miraculously deduced my secret, I must insist you keep it to yourself."  
  
"As you vish."  
  
"That said, may I ask you something off the record?"  
  
"Please."  
  
"Do you think I'm wrong-- or horrible, going into Procyon territory, knowing about this?"  
  
Turgevny pursed his lips, then spoke, "I cannot pass judgment on you as a Capton, as I see your hands basically tied by naval urgencies. I will not do the same in question of your vomanhood--I feel it is not my place."  
  
Amelia sighed.  
  
Turgevny offered an apologetic smile. "I am sorry. I am not nearly as good at giving advise as Arrow vas."  
  
Amelia felt an odd pang of pain and fondness at the memory of her old friend and confidant. Turgevny was right--Arrow probably would know how to best answer her questions; but he wasn't here.  
  
"I would like your advise anyway, if it's alright."  
  
Turgevny shifted his stance. "It seems to me zat you are already too deep into zis conflict--if you vere to back out now, it vould increase ze likelihood of Procyon victory--zere is little to no one out here to help the outer rim planets."  
  
Amelia sighed. "That's what I thought. But this damn nagging voice keeps picking away at me."  
  
"Instinct," he said simply. "Use it to your advantage. It IS possible to do ze job and come out alive."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And if you leave now and ze Procyons win, it is likely you vill die anyway. Zey still owe you from previous conflict."  
  
Amelia nodded. "They do hate leaving old losses unsettled."  
  
"You have a duty to protect your young and your empire. I see no better way to do so zan be doing vhat comes best to you--your place is here. But zhat is just how I see zings."  
  
Amelia sighed. Though it did little to rectify the situation as it stood, it did do a lot to ease her meddling conscience; the man was right after all. "Thank you, my friend."  
  
Turgevny bowed. "My pleasure, Capton. Not Arrow vorthy, but alright, I hope."  
  
Amelia chuckled. "No, I suspect Arrow would have ribbed me a few times about not being able to fit in my uniform or see my ankles."  
  
"I can still do zat if you vish."  
  
Amelia waved her hand in dismissal. "Not necessary."  
  
"Ah. Probably vouldn't be as good as Arrow's jabs anyvay. I vill take my leave now vith your permission, Capton. You have to meet vith General Kaz shortly."  
  
"Yes, I suppose showing up on time would help our cause some," Amelia said wryly. "I'd best be off to the headquarters." She pulled her tricornered hat over her head and followed Turgevny out of the stateroom, where they parted ways on the main deck. Amelia herself made her way down the gangplank into the streets of Folon; the roadways were crammed with passersby, but the streets were open and friendly. She was able to make her way to her destination with little conflict, impeded only by a baker intent on selling her a large, drippy pastry and a group of schoolchildren who scurried around her in a mad rush to a large gray building Amelia surmised was the schoolhouse. It was only about another two blocks between the area where she narrowly missed tripping over a small, dark-feathered kindergartener and the meeting place. She needed only ascend the wood steps to the building when she was greeted by General Kaz, who was literally waiting for her in the main doorway.  
  
"Ahhhhhhhh, Captain Amelia! An honor, to be sure! I've heard such things of your valor in the Procyon conflicts! Please, please come in!"  
  
Amelia dipped her head in respect and removed her hat. She followed the General down the narrow hallway into the third room on the left, which was a cramped-looking meeting room. Kaz took a seat at one end of an almost perfectly circular table and gestured for Amelia to occupy the green chair direct across from it.  
  
"I understand your need for staff, Captain," the General began. "We are a small fleet, but I will provide you with a much assistance as I am able."  
  
Amelia wasted no time with formalities. "The fact of the matter is we're going up against a formidable, large, and frankly pissed off Procyon fleet. I'll need six or seven of your best vessels, all with complimenting crews."  
  
"Six or seven? That's...my goodness! That's a lot of men! Our ships hold over a hundred a piece! I don't know if we can spare THAT many. After all, we DO have planetary defenses to think about."  
  
Amelia processed this information for a moment, then spoke, "Five ships, maybe?"  
  
Kaz paused. "It would be tough, to assemble so many men."  
  
Amelia leaned over an looked the General in the eye. "I don't mean to sound grave, General Kaz, but the fact of the matter is, if the Procyons defeat our fleet, your planet will be one of the first to fall under their control."  
  
Kaz looked worried for a moment, and he pulled at his starched collar. "I know. It frightens me, in all honesty."  
  
"I think that with an extra five ships or so, we may be a match for them, so to speak."  
  
"Hmmm. Very well, Captain. I'll have five ships and the finest sailors to go with them ready for you in five days. That will be good enough I hope?"  
  
"Beggars can't be choosers, General. I thank you for your help."  
  
"My pleasure, Captain. And might I extend my thanks for your help in defending us all. You've really some nerve."  
  
"It's my job, General Kaz," she said, placing her hat on her head as she rose, "We all have something at stake in this."  
  
"Best wishes, Captain."  
  
"The same to you. I pray for a swift and full victory; I will keep your people in mind."  
  
*********  
  
"Doctor! Doctor! Dammit, man, wakeup!" Kolor hissed at Doppler, who was enjoying a midday rest.  
  
"Mwphhwat?" Doppler mumbled into his pillow.  
  
"We're at Seku. I've arranged everything. Time to put our plan into action."  
  
Doppler sat up suddenly, shaking. "Now? Oh, dear...ar-are you sure this will work?"  
  
"No."  
  
Doppler's eyes grew wide. "No?"  
  
Kolor smiled. "I told you it was dangerous. Now, we'll need to get you looking like a Procyon prisoner of war. No one's going to believe my story if you look like you've been pampered by the resident physician for the duration of your trip with us."  
  
Doppler stood and allowed the doctor to cut a few slits in his vest with a hand knife. Kolor reached onto his bookshelf, ran a hand along a rather dusty set of medical volumes, then smeared the dirt on Delbert's face.   
  
"Convincing--achoo!--enough?" the Canian enquired.  
  
Kolor stepped back and eyed his handiwork. Frowning he spoke, "Not really. Hmmm...." He clicked his tongue as he thought, then grinned apologetically. "I'm going to apologize to you now."  
  
"For what?" Delbert asked, clearly confused.  
  
Before the astrophysicist could react, the doctor balled up his right fist and belted him straight in the eye.  
  
"For that," Kolor responded.  
  
"What the HELL was that for?!" Doppler exclaimed, only to be shushed by the doctor.  
  
"A few bruises will help our story."  
  
"Couldn't you punch me in the jaw?!"  
  
"Nope. Bruising will occur faster and more substantially in the eye socket. Didn't you learn anything from all those medical texts?" he quipped.  
  
"Ha, funny," Doppler said wryly, holding his eye.   
  
Kolor then grabbed his wrist and pulled the doctor into the hallways of the ship. "Showtime, Doctor."  
  
Doppler took in his surroundings silently as Kolor pulled him through the Llao. The halls were substantially darker than they were on a Terran vessel, and they had a foul smell wafting through them, which seemed like a combination of sewage and sweat to his acute Canian sense of smell. It was down one staircase, a twist through the engine room, and a long stretch down to their destination: the brig. Kolor looked at his counterpart, his eyes asking for trust, cooperation, and most of all, forgiveness. Doppler gave him that in the form of a small nod, and the physician threw open the door to the prisoner stronghold. There were two guards on duty, both huge and hulking, and they regarded their visitor with twin looks of inquiry.  
  
"Captain's ordered me to treat the prisoners for Ru lice," Kolor said, tossing Delbert to the floor.   
  
"Delbert!" Nali, who was seemingly captured from her vessel, cried out from the cell full of POW's.  
  
"Seems this vermin is loaded with them," Kolor continued, gesturing to Doppler, "Leads me to believe the rest have them."  
  
"Lice? We ain't heard about no lice," one of the guards said.  
  
"I've been instructed to give them all acid baths. Like the flea dips you give your pet Gonks? Should kill all the lice--probably burn off a few skin layers, but it's a small price to pay."  
  
The prisoners in the brig all looked at the doctor incredulously.  
  
"Why's the Cap'n worried about a little lice? Why, all me cousin's kids got 'em," asked the same guard, still unconvinced.  
  
"Well the Captain's obviously more educated than yourself, you dog! Ru lice'll take the fur right off you! Causes rashes of the likes you've never seen! In places...well, you gents don't WANT to find out where Ru lice like to breed best."  
  
Both guards gulped.  
  
"It'll only take me an hour or so to dip them all. Should come back smelling better anyway."  
  
"Good!" one of the guards laughed, "They's was beginning to smell rank anyway!" With that, he opened the cage which held the prisoners. "Get out, ya filthy scum! And don't ya think about touching me!"  
  
Frightened, the filthy and weary Terran prisoners filed out of the cell and toward Kolor.  
  
"C'mon you filthy Terran dogs," Kolor called, "Follow me." With that, he ushered the prisoners out of the brig and into the hallways. "This way," he said, pointing to a maintenance hall. The Terrans all looked at one another for a moment until Delbert quickly filed into the narrow passage. The prisoners soon followed, with Kolor bringing up the rear. They jogged the length of the hall until they emerged in the cargo hold. There, they stopped and watched as Kolor made his way to a small shaft. He was just about to lift a small wooden covering away from the opening when he was gruffly turned around by one of the prisoners.  
  
"It was a foolish mistake, taking all these prisoners down here all by yourself," the Lieutenant who held Kolor's shoulder snarled, "You're outnumbered and we've got a bone or two to pick about the service in this joint." Two soldiers flanked the leader, who was towering over the doctor.  
  
"No!" Delbert cried out, holding the Lieutenant back from causing any undue harm. "He's here to help us. We're escaping!"  
  
"Escaping?" one of the female soldiers shook her head in disbelief, "He's a Procyon!"  
  
"No...well, yes, he IS Procyon...but--he, that is he--" Delbert started.  
  
"Look," Kolor cut in gruffly, "You can either stay here a be Gonk food or you can come with me an stand a chance of getting back to Terran territory. Take your pick, but be quick about it. I haven't got all day."  
  
The Terrans looked at each other, as if waiting for someone to answer. Kolor threw open the entrance to the shaft, then hopped into it. Delbert followed--which seemed to be enough to spur the rest on--and the group crawled down the dusty tubes to the docking bay below.  
  
When the group emerged, it was into a drafty and dark room. The place was eerily quiet, save for the whirling of mechanical cogs from the fueler tanks just outside. Nali crept up to Delbert and grabbed his arm, thankful for the contact in the unknown territory. Kolor turned to face the group of Terrans, who were all scanning the room, as if waiting to be ambushed by Procyon sailors who had noticed their escape. "I made contact with a cargo freighter this morning. The owner's willing to take you guys back home. But between here and there, you must do EXACTLY as I say. Follow my lead, no matter what. Understand?"  
  
Some of the POW's nodded. The more seasoned sailors looked a bit skeptical, but soon acquiesced--they were dead either way...If there was an off chance that this Procyon really DID want to save them...best they take it. When Kolor was satisfied that he had everyone on board, he headed to the hangar door of the dock. He quickly gazed around his surroundings to assure himself that no members of the Llao's crew were hanging idly by, then waved the group over. They wandered over silently, save for the shuffling of their feet on the floor. Kolor got behind them and pulled out a small pistol he had concealed in his coat. One of the soliders stiffened noticeably.  
  
"I'm not going to shoot YOU," Kolor hissed, "It's for show. Play along." With that, he got behind the group and pointed the gun at Delbert's back. "Move forward onto the main street," he said.   
  
It wasn't long before the group made their way out into the bright port. It was loud, dirty, and packed with people, but, Kolor noted, it may make their escape all that more easy. The escapees headed down the main street and to their right, down a long alleyway with a few restaurants, seedy bars, and a exorcist's shop. At the end of the stretch, another road opened wide to swallow them in the sea of travelers, and they headed toward some small docks hidden in the shadows of some large warehouses, where several small, rundown merchant vessels lay in wait. Kolor had ushered the group almost all the way to their destination without incident when a large hand fell upon his shoulder. He looked up a see a large port guard staring down at him.  
  
"What's with all the foreigners?" his baritone voice inquired, nodding toward the prisoners.  
  
"Prisoners of war. IMPORTANT ones. Got an admiral in here, if you'll believe it."  
  
"Not a very good one," the guard smirked evilly at the group.  
  
"Can't say these Terrans are any good at the art of war--not compared to the Procyon Armada anyway. I'm been ordered to take them from my Captain's warship to one which will take them to the war prison on Celsus."  
  
"You're an officer?" the guard raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Sure am. First Lieutenant Opusak. Just got promoted a month ago."  
  
"Where's your uniform?" the guard asked.  
  
"I'm on shore leave," Kolor said, "I'm just taking these vermin to the ship as a favor to my Captain. You know...helps further promotions along. Heard he's thinking about getting a new Lieutenant Commander. I want to be first in line for the job."  
  
This story seemed to satisfy the guard, and he bid the doctor farewell, with a sneer at his captives. The group continued their voyage toward the docks and a small, black, dented ship in the far corner.  
  
"You really should have been an actor," Doppler spoke out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
Kolor smiled. "I AM rather good, aren't I?"  
  
Doppler snickered to himself as they approached the loading platform of the ship.  
  
"This is it?" one of the soldiers asked.  
  
"Hey, no one said it would be a luxury cruise," Kolor put his pistol away, "Consider yourselves infinitesimally lucky I've found you a way out at all."  
  
"Why are you doing this for us?" Nali spoke up from beside Delbert. "Aren't you at war with us?"  
  
"My dear lady," Kolor said, "I spent the better half of ten years training day in and day out on how to NOT kill people. I really don't see much point in all my years of training if I go around shooting all those I should be patching up. Besides, not all Procyons believe that this 'invasion' is a good idea. The Captain of this vessel is a prime example."  
  
As Kolor finished speaking, a lanky youth came bounding down the ramp. "You must be Dr. Kolor," he said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The boy nodded, picked up a cargo box from the deck, then began heading up the ramp. "Follow me. Dad's waiting for you."  
  
The teenaged boy lead the weary refugees up the ramp and onto the small deck of the old cargo freighter. It was neither as large nor as majestic as the Terran naval vessels they had all sailed on, but all the POW's could agree that it was wholly better than the atmosphere above the Llao. The boy set down the box on the deck and called out to the small bridge. "Dad! They've arrived!"  
  
The Captain of the vessel poked his head over the railing of the bridge. He was a large, burly, middle-aged man, with a worn and graying face, but a warm smile.  
  
"Ah! The noble physician! And his Terran counterparts! It's about bloody time you got here! I was about to shove off without you!" his loud voice boomed.  
  
"Well, then I', thankful we've made it in time," Kolor bowed slightly to him, "And thank you again for your hospitality."  
  
"Ahk, think nothing of it! It's about time I did something philanthropic! Now if your sailors in the bunch will give me a hand, we can be underway!"  
  
Seemingly convinced by the Captain's genuine nature, the spacers in the group set off to help the boy cast off. Nali and Delbert followed Kolor up to the bridge.   
  
"Captain Umar, I can't thank you enough," Kolor smiled.  
  
"Ah, I told ya already. That damned Armada's ruined enough parts of their own people's lives, including my own. There should be no reason in this universe that they should go 'round doing the same for everyone else." Umar flicked a couple of switches on the control panel at the helm and smiled as the ship hummed to life. "Well, she ain't much, but she's as reliable a ship as any. I'll do my best in seeing you home."  
  
Kolor smiled.  
  
"Dad! Sails are out! We're ready to go!"  
  
"Go, my boy! Now get up here! I'm going to need me a trusty helmsman!"  
  
The boy's eyes went wide, then he rushed up to the bridge. "I--I can pilot?"  
  
"Sure! Boy's gotta learn sooner or later! Should have a little of my blood in ya boy, you'll be marvelous!"  
  
The teenager trembled with excitement as he grabbed the wheel. The ship rose, and boy turned it sharply away from the port, throwing the passengers off their feet.  
  
"Easy, there lad," Umar laughed, "No need to be sending us flying now."  
  
"Sorry," the boy said, his face flushed with embarrassment.  
  
"That's my son, Dek. He'll be 16 this coming month. Spitting image of me, don't you think?" Umar said, turning to Delbert and Nali.  
  
"Oh, he--" Delbert began, only to be cut off by a shrieking voice.  
  
"Umar! You bloody dunderhead! What the hell are you DOING up there?" The owner of the voice came storming out from below deck, covered in a gloppy food-substance. "I was trying to make some dinner, and you go and send the kitchen flying! A right waste of food, you old codger!"  
  
"Ah, calm down woman! I was just teaching the boy to fly."  
  
"Fly! Merciful heavens, the boy can't even clean up his own messes! Dek! You get down here straightaway and finish those chores I gave you!"  
  
Dek frowned. "Now?"  
  
"Ugh, woman, I told ya already he's piloting with me right now. No need to embarrass him in front of the guests."  
  
"GUESTS?" her eyes bulged, as she took notice of Nali, Delbert, and Kolor for the first time. "What business do you have, bringing three extra people on board?"  
  
"There's closer to twelve, actually, Mum," Dek said.  
  
"Twelve!?" she exclaimed, "Ahk! But I married a fool of a man! And I suppose those mouths'll just feed themselves, eh?"  
  
Nali turned to Delbert. "I hope we we're not trouble," she whispered.  
  
"No trouble at all," Umar waved her concerns off with a wave of the hand, "Old Loddy's just picking a fight 'cause she wants to."  
  
"Oh? Is that so?" the stout woman said, "Well in that case they can have YOUR dinner, you lout!"  
  
"I'm not missing much," Umar grumbled, "We're having roast tonight."  
  
"I heard that!" Loddy growled, "Ahk! Me mum was right! Could have married an author, but no! I'm stuck with this fat old man."  
  
"Could have, should have, my dear," Umar smiled, "Don't you have dinner to cook?"  
  
Loddy gave him an unkind gesture before wandering off below deck, mumbling about the "bone-headed-moron-of-a-husband" she was saddled with.  
  
Umar headed to the main deck. "I'll be back in a moment," he said, "Got to check on the engines."  
  
Left on deck with nothing but the boy, the three adults shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"He DID tell your mother he was doing this, didn't he?" Kolor asked.  
  
"Oh. Don't mind Mum. They do this all the time."  
  
"Fight?" Nali asked, "Like that?"  
  
Dek smiled and nodded. "My brother's say they've done it since as long as they can remember. He'll call her a silly woman, she'll smack him in the head and curse the day she wedded him. It's an endless cycle."  
  
"Oh...they don't allow marriages to dissolve in the Procyon empire?" Nali asked.  
  
"Dissolve? Oh--you mean divorce! Ha! No, it's allowed, but believe me, they don't want one."  
  
Delbert and Nali looked at each other in question.  
  
"No, really," the boy explained, "I know it doesn't seem like they're madly in love, but they really are. I'm the youngest boy of seven. SEVEN kids! Besides, Mum thinks it's funny when they fight and Dad says Mum looks her most beautiful that way. I don't see it...she scares me."  
  
The three passengers laughed.  
  
"In any case," Dek continued, "They've been married 31 years. They fight all day long, but in the end Mum's never considered cooking or keeping house for another man and Dad's never looked at another woman."  
  
Nali smiled. "Oh, that's sweet."  
  
"And strange," Kolor added.  
  
"You get used to it," Dek said, "Don't take any of Mum's complaints seriously. She's just as adamant about getting you home as Dad is--but if she agreed with him...well, they'd have nothing to fight about."  
  
Umar returned to the deck, and clapped his son on the shoulder. "Keep her going steady, my boy. If you need help, holler." He turned to his guests. "Come with me. I'll show you where you can wash up and lay down for a spell."  
  
Delbert, Nali, and Kolor all followed the Captain bellow deck--it had cramped, but well-lit passageways and the aroma from Loddy's cooking lingered in the air. Despite Umar's complaints to the contrary, the food smelled delicious.  
  
"There's a room down to the left. Only one not occupied at the moment--the rest of your group got the bigger ones. Sharing won't be too big a problem, will it?"  
  
"No," Delbert said, "Not at all."  
  
"Good, good. Loddy'll have dinner done a about an hour."  
  
Nali turned toward him. "Can I help?"  
  
"No, no. She'll be alright. She complains about it, but she likes cooking large meals--makes her feel like she's back at home with all the boys. And the grandkids. Whoo, let me tell you--she makes far more food for them than your group could ever hope to eat!"  
  
Kolor chuckled. "I don't know. The Llao is pretty notorious for not feeding their captives--you may have a hungry mob on your hands."  
  
"Good! The hungrier the better! Loddy loves it when people love her food. Nothing gets her blushing like a schoolgirl again like complimenting her food! Ahh, and what a fine schoolgirl she was--believe it or not, she was the envy of all the girls in school. Prettiest thing you ever did see." Umar's face melted into a wide grin.  
  
"Sir...um, Captain," Delbert began, pushing his spectacles higher on his nose, "Why...why help us? Won't you face severe punishment if you're caught?"  
  
Umar smiled. "Your better believe it." He ran a hand through his gray hair, then frowned. "The fact of the matter is...er, I didn't catch your name."  
  
"Oh! Sorry. I-I didn't give it. Doppler. Delbert Doppler."  
  
"Well, Mr. Doppler, if there's anything you learn about me, let it be this: I really only hate two things in this world--Skonky Duck eggs over easy, and the Procyon naval system." The older man sighed. "I was drafted as a teenager. I worked as a deckhand on my uncle's ship--wanted to be a merchant. Just wanted to travel...bring my girl home some nice trinkets from all over the empire. I didn't really mind the draft so much at first--after all, I was getting to see some exotic places. Anyway, I remember one time our fleet took over a small village on a Terran planet--we took over 20 prisoners. Women, children, you name it. Rules of war say that these people should be treated as humanely as possible...but the navy decided that it was too much trouble to feed and look after so many crying, scared individuals. So one day, they ordered a few of the crewmembers watching the cells to...well, they shot them. All of them. Even the kids--one guy even killed a baby. A BABY. It was then that I decided I was forever disgusted with the system. I left as soon as I was able and I've been spitting in the face of the uniform ever since. When they drafted my oldest son seven years ago, I was livid. Sent him to Baora, to fight in some tribal dispute. Got shot in the arm. There weren't enough medical supplies to go around, so they treated the officers first, even if their wounds weren't life-threatening. Stupid decision cost my son his arm. So when Kolor told me about your situation, I was eager to help--I thought about those women and children, and my son, and all those others the Procyon Armada has swept under their rug in conquest. I thought about the fact that some of you may be sons, or husbands, or fathers--or wives and mothers--," he said, smiling at Nali, "and I decided that I don't want to see anything horrible like that happen to anymore innocents. I'm proud to be able to help you."  
  
Nali wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Ah, don't be. It's not your fault, now is it?" Umar smiled. "Well, Dr. Kolor, Mr. Doppler, and my lovely young lady--"  
  
"Nali," she offered.  
  
"Ah, a beautiful name. Yes, Dr. Kolor, Mr. Doppler, and Nali, if you'll allow me, I must take my leave. I have some things to look over before dinner, and I best get started, or I'll be late to the table. Loddy'll tear my ears off and pickle them if I'm late."  
  
Delbert nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Captain."  
  
"Please, Umar. I'm no Captain--just a simple man with one too many rambunctious sons and a deafening nag for a wife."  
  
"I heard that, you scoundrel!" Loddy barked from the galley, "See if your dinner tastes any good tonight!"  
  
"ALL your food is poison, you blasted woman!"  
  
"Ahk! Then why aren't you DEAD yet?"  
  
Umar laughed. "I hope you're all blessed with as lovely a spouse as I have."  
  
To be continued....  
  
:)  
  
Hi, guys! It's been a month, I know, but school is the pits--we switched professors in one class and the new guy's the devil incarnate... ::evil grin::  
  
Anyway, here you go--Ch. 6. I've been asked a lot of questions about this story, and I feel here is the best place to answer my FAQ.  
  
Q: How does the story end?  
  
A: Pft. Amelia dies, obviously. Sheesh.  
  
Q: When does Delbert find out about the kids?   
  
A: ::Grin:: I've got the scene planned out. Just wait.  
  
Q: How come you keep writing dumb stories about how Amelia and Delbert get separated?  
  
A: Hmmm...because I wanna. Hey, I'm all for constructive criticism, but if you don't like the plot, I won't tape your eyelids open so you have to read it. ;P  
  
Q: Where's Jim?  
  
A: Umm....with [insert fangirl name here]. Happy?  
  
Q: Will you ever stop writing and leave us alone?  
  
A: Sure. I gotta die one day.  
  
And last on my agenda, my shameless plug of doom:  
  
Who wants Tmyres to write!? ME!! And so do you--so go read "Beyond Measure" and saturate her with so many reviews that she's FORCED to write. (BTW, ball's in your court now, girl. Gimmie all the A/D you got).  
  
So--go read her stuff.   
  
Yeeeeeeeeah...so that's all. Wait--no it isn't:  
  
REVIEW!!  
  
There. I'm done.  
  
Aloha,   
  
J. 


	7. Chapter 7

Ch.7  
  
Disclaimer:   
  
To Disney Inc.: All TP characters are yours; not mine, yours. Please don't sue me.  
  
  
  
Sincerely, J.  
  
A/N: HEY!!!! All you fans o' Tmyres77's work--please see the end of the chapter for important info!  
  
Delbert and Nali stared at one another, their eyes bleary with sleep. Given the time, it should have been easy for the two of them to fall asleep--especially Nali, who had been given the bed due to the men's courteous nature--but Kolor seemed to find it difficult to stay STILL in his sleep that particular evening, and was tossing and groaning from his sleeping arrangement on the floor. Convinced that she wouldn't be able to sleep until the noise ceased, Nali sat up and gestured to the door; Delbert nodded, thinking that a stroll on the deck might be a good way to fatigue him SO much, he'd be able to sleep despite the noise. The two of the quietly rose from their beds and left the small room, shutting the door behind them.  
  
"My Goddess in heaven," she sighed in the hallway, "Did he toss like that back on his ship?"  
  
"No. He wasn't doing to badly for the last couple of weeks or so--I can't imagine what the problem is tonight," Delbert commented, leading the way to the main deck. The two of the them strolled to the port edge of the main deck and leaned on the rail.  
  
"Hmm. Might have been the muscle he pulled when he was helping with the sails," Nali pondered aloud, "He was complaining about the pain at dinner."  
  
"Very true," he said, looking out into the depths of the etherium. "Wow. The Logan Nebula is very bright and clear tonight. It's a shame I don't have a telescope."  
  
"Yes," she agreed, shivering slightly in the cool wind, "It's quite nice."  
  
"Cold?" Delbert asked.  
  
"A little," she confessed. "My homeworld's quite a deal warmer than this."  
  
"I've been," he said, pulling off his coat and lending it to her, "It's--well, it's sweltering."  
  
"Nah," she said, taking the coat with a smile, "Everywhere else is just too damn cold. And thank you, by the way."  
  
"Think nothing of it."  
  
There was a brief silence, a lull in their conversation, until Nali cleared her throat and spoke again.  
  
"Any plans for when we get back to Terran territory?"  
  
"Huh?" Delbert blinked, caught off guard, "Oh--uh....well, no immediate ones."  
  
"Ah. Well...I don't suppose you'd like to...collaborate on a project together?"  
  
"Research? What did you have in mind?"  
  
"I was thinking maybe traveling with my current Captain when he goes to the Sanko system. There's supposed to be a wonderful binary system there."  
  
"Sanko?" his face fell, "That's awfully far away."  
  
"Three months each way."  
  
"Won't you...miss home?"  
  
"No...besides...I'd have you."  
  
Delbert ran a hand through his hair. "Me? That's flattering, but still...what about your family?"  
  
She laughed. "We're all wanderers, it seems. Besides, the time with you could be rewarding."  
  
"Well, it could make for an interesting paper. Publish-worthy, I think."  
  
Nali sighed in frustration. "Delbert. I wasn't talking about the collaboration."  
  
He raised his eyebrows at her. "I don't follow."  
  
"Delbert...I think I'm sort of...attracted to you."  
  
Delbert gaped at her for a moment. A young, attractive scientist found HIM attractive? *Now where was this magnetic charm in High School?!*  
  
"Umm...uhh...Nali, that's very flattering....I mean...you're very--VERY--beautiful and all, but I-er...I'm sort of...married."  
  
"Married?" she exclaimed.  
  
"Yes. I thought you knew."  
  
Nali let her eyes wander to his left hand, which was perched on the railing of the ship. Sure enough...  
  
She laughed. "Damn, you'd think I would have learned by now to CHECK for a ring." She rung his coat in her hands. "Wow...well, I'm pretty embarrassed."  
  
"Don't be. I should have said something."  
  
"No, no. This isn't the first time this has happened to me," she giggled.  
  
"Well, for what it's worth, I WAS flattered."  
  
"So I would have had a chance then?"  
  
"I suppose so."  
  
Nali smiled. "That's reassuring. So, who's the lucky lady? What's she like?"  
  
Delbert smiled.  
  
"Lemme guess," Nali put a finger to her lips in thought, "Bookish blonde with shocking good looks behind her glasses."  
  
"You fancy romance novels, don't you?" he asked.  
  
"I've been known to read a few...hundred...a year. And you'd think I'd learn from THEM to see if a man's taken!"  
  
Delbert laughed. "Please don't feel too embarrassed."  
  
"It's hard to really embarrass me too long. I hope I didn't alienate you."  
  
"Not at all. I still think you're a brilliant, talented woman. With good taste," he winked.  
  
She laughed. "I thought you'd say that. But anyway--bookish blonde?"  
  
"Nope. Feisty red-head."  
  
"Oooh. Exotic."  
  
"Yes, she certainly is something special."  
  
Nali smiled. "Miss her?"  
  
"Terribly."  
  
"Well, let's hope these Procyons know a thing or two about sneaking over the border safely."  
  
"Oh, you can sure you'll get there safely," a voice called out behind them. They turned around to see Loddy smiling at them. "Umar may be a good-for-nothing ingrate, but he's a wonderful spacer."  
  
Nali replied, "That's good to hear."  
  
Loddy placed her hands on her hips. "Now to the real business--why aren't you two asleep? Not good for you to be up all night, you know."  
  
"We dabble in astronomy, so we're used to the late-night, early-morning hours," Nali explained, "Well, I dabble. Delbert lives and breathes."  
  
He glared at the feline.  
  
"Star-watchers, eh?" Loddy asked, "You know, I've wanted to know what that is for the longest time." They followed her pale finger as she pointed in at a soft pink mass in the sky. "It's amazingly gorgeous."  
  
"It's a nebula," Nali said, "Haven't the slightest idea which. I defer to the expert...Delbert?"  
  
"Well...well--ah! Yes, it's most certainly the Cassan nebula. It's best viewed on Saggum IV."  
  
"Saggum IV?" Loddy asked.  
  
"Part of a system of planets in the Quaternary sector of the Terran Empire. The climate there is actually said to resemble that of a Procyon planet--A'lbumi, I think," he replied.  
  
"I see. It sounds like a lovely place to live. You can't see anything in the sky on A'lbumi--too much bloody pollution," Loddy sighed.  
  
"Maybe you'd consider moving there," Nali suggested, "Since the Procyon Empire has given you so much grief."  
  
Loddy shook her head. "Nah. As barbaric as some of the Tribal leaders and military personnel can be, it IS my home. All my sons live there, and it wouldn't do for a mother to leave her babies--even if they are all grown," she winked, "Besides, there are some rather wonderful aspects in our world. You just have to know where to look amongst the blinkin' filth."  
  
"Like you and your husband," Delbert pointed out, "You're truly diamonds in the rough. We'll never be able to repay you."  
  
Loddy laughed. "You're keeping that ol' coot, Umar, busy. One more minute he spends ferrying you is one less minute he spends bothering me."  
  
Nali chuckled. "Oh, come off it. We've been told you enjoy the attention."  
  
"Oh? Well, you keep it to yourselves then," the plump Procyon responded with mock severity. She then turned kind eyes to them. "Well, if you really feel you have a debt--and you don't--you could give me a hand in the kitchen. I have many mouths to feed, I'm running a little late this morning, and I suspect everyone will be up soon. Your military-types rise far too early."  
  
"We'd be glad to give you a hand, right Doppler?" Nali turned to Delbert.  
  
"Well...er...I don't really cook well...or at all for that matter."  
  
"Hah! Aren't you the one, dear?" Loddy grinned, taking Delbert's arm. "Don't you worry a bit, now," she said as she lead him below deck, " 'Ol Loddy'll whip you into shape right quick. I'll have you working so hard in that kitchen, you'll be a pro by sundown."  
  
*****  
  
Amelia sat at her desk, sneering at the papers in front of her. Though the newly fortified fleet had managed to make it across enemy line in the last two weeks and had suffered little damage since the last encounter with the Armada, she couldn't say that she was too pleased with the progress the fleet was making. They were moving a little TOO slowly for her tastes, for she knew that the more time that passed with no encounter meant more time for the Armada to come back, strong as ever. Add that to the fact that the passing weeks had begun to convince her more and more that her husband was probably dead, and Amelia felt she was dealing with a psychological burden bigger than the Legacy, which she missed. *All this grief and I don't even have my own ship at my disposal,* she thought as she stacked the papers neatly into a drawer. The day had ended hours ago, and she let her better judgment finally get the better of her as she headed to bed. She strolled into the bedroom and stripped off her uniform, trading it for a light nightgown. After she had washed up, she climbed into bed, sleeping to one side of it as married life had trained her to do. The empty spot by her side only turned her thoughts to more horrible things that could have happened to Delbert, and she quickly racked her brain to think of other topics that wouldn't make her stomach turn quite so readily. Swallowing down a wave a nausea that came from the thought of a rather ancient wartime torture method, she focused on the etherium outside the gold-rimmed window in the room. Such sights often brought her peace, and she began to feel sleep take over as took in the ballet of stars and cosmic gases dancing about the ship. She silently resolved to put away the more disturbing aspects of the mission for the night: the deaths, the damage, Delbert, the enemy, the baby.  
  
Hmm. She hadn't thought about that in awhile.  
  
She grimaced. On top of all of the other wartime events, this was certainly the worst thing that could have happened. *No, not worst THING. Worst TIME.* Yes, this had to be the worst case of timing ever. With roughly seven and a half months in the Felind gestation period and Dr. St. Grove's estimate that she was approximately two months along, it wouldn't be much longer until she was completely unable to hide it from the crew. Between the outer rim planets, the restless soldiers in her command and the race against the clock, she decided that it was becoming high time that she take out the Armada once and for all. Now that they were in enemy territory, all they had to do was move in for the kill.  
  
*Tomorrow.* she thought with a yawn, *Killing Procyons isn't nearly going to be as much fun if I'm not well-rested enough to enjoy it.* She closed her eyes and snuggled into her pillow, telling her mind to let go of all the plans to hunt down the active armada and sleep a good night's sleep.  
  
**********  
  
Next morning, it was back to business, and Amelia tugged at her uniform in an attempt to straighten it. She was meeting aboard the Mullerian with the intelligence agents in the fleet , hoping to obtain enough information to find the Armada's current location. Upon entering the room, she found a group of very different men, ranging from the "nerd" persona that reminded her vaguely of Delbert, to a stealthy kind of brooder who sat in the corner, dressed darkly, but plainly, as he mulled over the information he had in his head and would just as soon die before hand it over to anyone. They all stood as she entered the room, giving her the proper greetings and salutes as she strode over to the main table and sat in the chair at the head of it. When they finally sat, she spoke.  
  
"I'll keep this short and to the point, as I haven't much time to sit and bother with pleasantries. Now, can any of you tell me where the Armada might be, or are you truly as overpaid as the taxpayers believe you to be?"  
  
One of the men blushed. "Well...I have reason to believe that they're somewhere in the Shishi quadrant."  
  
"That's a large area, sir," Amelia narrowed her eyes, "We'll spend the better part of two years searching it clean. I can't very well get a jump on these guys if I can't find them."  
  
"Liet of the Cassandra and I have placed them somewhere between the planet Kro and the Dow system. Will that suffice?" the dark man in the corner asked.  
  
Amelia trained a glare on him for his tone, then returned to her thoughts. "According to the data we have on the Procyon Empire, that gives us about a week's worth of expanse to evaluate. Can you narrow it down?"  
  
"Once we get to the area I can better use the resources available to me," the dark man replied. "I'll need, one or two more agents from the other ships, though."  
  
"Granted. Pick whoever you so deem and inform their Captain that I have placed an order that they are to serve your needs first for the time being. We should arrive in the area in question in four days if we double our speed--I expect a full status report six days from now."  
  
"Two days?" one of the agents spoke up, "That's not a lot of time, Captain."  
  
"I don't have a lot of time to spare," Amelia said gruffly, "I don't think I need to remind you what's at stake here. I can't wait around while you dilly-dally in your information gathering."  
  
The agent quickly shut his mouth, responding to her rebuke with a sharp nod.  
  
"I'll inform the fleet that we'll being moving out double-time immediately. I suggest you get to work right away--six days will creep up faster than you think."  
  
With that, she left the room, and strode along the Mullerian's deck and back to the ramp which would take her to her own. When she arrived on the Tempest, she turned to the helmsman. "Head toward the Dow system, heading 4-7-8-8. Double speed."  
  
"Aye, Captain," the sailor replied, turning the large wheel sharply to the left to accommodate the commander's orders.  
  
*********  
  
"Where have you been, Doppler?" Kolor grinned as he helped two other sailors hoist some materials from below deck.  
  
Delbert grinned sheepishly. "Loddy's had me in the kitchen the last few days. She's hell-bent on teaching me to cook. Says I need it--that I'm too skinny."  
  
The Procyon doctor finished his lifting an approached the Canid. "Learned anything yet?"  
  
"Only how to bandage a burn. I've gotten plenty of them."  
  
"Ah, some weren't meant for the culinary arts. Take me, for example. All my years in med school taught me to rely on easily-made sandwiches. That's all I can make to this day."  
  
"What about that food you used to take to the room on the Llao?"  
  
"Ha! That came from the kitchen. I didn't say I wasn't a good thief."  
  
They were enjoying a laugh at that comment when Umar appeared on deck, looking slightly distressed.   
  
"Anything wrong, Captain?" Kolor called out.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, nothing too bad. Our friends in the Armada are currently in the Dow system, which is where we were headed. We'll have to go around."  
  
"How long does that slow down our journey?" Delbert asked.  
  
"Oh, it doesn't. The Dow system's just easier to take. Less navigation on my part. I'll just have to spend to better part of the night getting through the asteroid belt outside the system. Not a huge deal--just trying to avoid another argument with Loddy about how I don't sleep properly enough."  
  
"She's put her two cents in with me as well," Delbert smiled.  
  
"Has she? Nosy old wench. Hmmm...maybe would should drop by the Dow system. Plant Loddy onboard the flagship. That'll send 'em running home."  
  
Umar flinched as a star chart was deftly whacked across the back of his head. He turned around to see Loddy holding it.  
  
"I'll send you FLOATING home in that etherium, mark me," she scolded, waving the chart at him, "Here's the map you asked for, you cad."  
  
"Ah, woman. You needn't hit me like that."  
  
"Ahk! I should be whaling on you!"  
  
"Stubborn, fat old lady."  
  
"Oh , steer the damn ship, you bleedin' moron."  
  
******  
  
Night fell as it always did, and Delbert fell into a restful sleep, trusting in the piloting skills of the older Procyon Captain as he steered the way through the asteroid belt that impeded their journey. When the Canid awoke the next morning, Umar was still at the helm, though he was looking quite tired. The Captain grinned when he saw Doppler appear on the deck.   
  
"Ahoy there, Doppler!" he bellowed, "Nearly out of that belt--made it out without so much as a dent...though there was a close call or two in there."  
  
Delbert grinned nervously, slightly sickened at the thought of nearly being rammed by a giant asteroid and busted into pieces. "G-good job, Captain."  
  
Umar gave him a cross look. "Now what did I tell ya about calling me 'Captain?' Makes me sound like some stuffy naval jerk. Now I know you're trying to be all prim-and-proper-like, but I'll tell you, I...Bloody hell! Would you look at that! There's a battle up ahead!"  
  
Delbert followed Umar's gaze to the horizon; the ships were small against the glare of a nearby sun, but the conflict was readily visible to the eye.  
  
Umar pulled out a telescope as Delbert joined him on the helm.   
  
"Who would be fighting here?" Delbert thought aloud.  
  
"Oh, could be a faction war--Tribes of all sorts are still fighting over our OWN land...Hmph, and they wanna take some more. Damn fools, the lot o' them."  
  
Umar looked into the scope, then frowned. "Damn. It's the armada. Well, be we be heading in the other direction then." He handed the telescope off to Doppler and took the steering wheel.  
  
Curious, Delbert peered through the scope.  
  
"Wait!" he exclaimed, reaching a large hand out in order to catch Umar's attention. "That's our fleet!"  
  
"What now?"  
  
"The Terran fleet we came from--they're the Armada's opposition!"  
  
"Well I'll be damned," Umar mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Hmmm...so we have to head in the direction we're trying to avoid, is that it?"  
  
"Well....um....yes."  
  
Umar pursed his lips tight. "If we're taken by the armada, Kolor, Loddy, and I will be hanged. The lot of you will probably be executed yourselves."  
  
Delbert twisted the scope in his hands. They had to return to the fleet--letting them go would only delay their trip, and there was no guarantee that the Armada wouldn't be fighting the Fleet the next time they found them, or that the Armada wouldn't track the refugees down if they decided to run away now.  
  
"It's high risk. I vote we go...but it's your ship. And you are strictly volunteers. The choice lies with you."  
  
Umar weighed the situation in his head for a moment before speaking. "Round up all your men--tell them we're heading in. Maybe we can try to give them a hand--I have a few arsenal-related surprises that Loddy doesn't know about." The Procyon gripped the steering wheel tight. "I certainly hope your fleet IS that good. Because if they lose this battle..."  
  
To be continued...   
  
Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.  
  
Yay for me! Guess what time of the year it is? END OF THE SEMESTER!! ::cue angel choir:: So whoo hoo! Lots o' sleep for me! :) (This is a HUGE deal...isn't that sad?)  
  
Anyway, big news for all you fanfic readers:  
  
A staple in the TP fanfic community, Tmyres77, is currently at OCS, meaning that she is off with the Navy, trying to become a very important officer-type who can boss around me peon sister when she joins up in June. Well, in OCS they keep you very busy, so Tmyres regrets to inform you that it may be awhile until her next post in "Beyond Measure." If she does write any (and this is a BIG if...she will be quite busy), I've been told to give the chapters to the fans, and so I will.  
  
So, good luck to Tmyres--I, for one, will miss her story for the next 3 months.  
  
And, getting back to one of my favorite subjects--me ;)-- I want to take this opportunity to thank all my loyal reviewers. You have no idea how important your reactions are to me.   
  
Ok, so for any more info. on the lovely Tmyres, or to harass me about my fanfic/un-witty commentary/both, you can contact me personally at CaptDuck96@netscape.net.  
  
That'll do 'er.  
  
Aloha,   
  
J. 


	8. Chapter 8

Ch.8  
  
Disclaimer: Disney owns all recognizable elements.  
  
Delbert didn't even realize he was holding his breath until he heard the blood thundering in his ears; he let the confined breath out in a long exhale as his eyes focused intently on the battle they were approaching. On the up side of things, the Fleet was holding it's own against the Armada, which, despite Amelia's reinforcements, was still a good deal larger than the Terran group of ships. The Canid drummed his fingers on the side of the hull from where he stood, hoping upon hope that Amelia had some sort of trick up her sleeve that would give the Fleet the edge they needed. He dug his fingertips into the ragged ship's rail, and seemed near to pressing the pads of his fingers through the solid wood when Nali came up beside him.  
  
"There's so much riding on this," she whispered in his ear, "I can only hope it's worth the risk."  
  
"I-I-It is. Th-the Fleet's in capable hands."  
  
"Ah. Captain Amelia. You're right--you do serve under a fine officer."  
  
Delbert smiled knowingly in response.  
  
Nali was about to open her mouth to speak when the ship rocked beneath them and the sound of a loud 'BOOM' filled the air.  
  
"Dad!" Dek called from the main deck, "They're shooting at us!"  
  
"The Procyons are shooting at us?" Nali asked.  
  
"No, the Terrans are!" Dek replied.  
  
"They think we're hostile," Kolor muttered, hearing the news as he emerged on deck.  
  
"Who fired the shot?" Nali asked herself, brandishing a telescope.   
  
A second shot pummeled the deck, sending Delbert to the floor face first. "I don't know who," he shouted, "but we have to get them to stop!"  
  
"It's the Nefarious," Nali said, closing the scope and extending a hand for Delbert to take. The astrophysicist was dragged to his feet, only to be knocked down again as another shot skimmed the bow.  
  
"That's it," Delbert mumbled, "Raise the white flag."  
  
"Surrender?" Umar enquired, "My ship? You're mad!"  
  
"I just need to get the Nefarious's attention--get them to stop firing at us. A surrender flag is most likely to get the Captain's attention."  
  
Umar looked slightly unconvinced, but made a gesture for the Terran hands to raise the white flag of surrender.  
  
"Captain," the Nefarious's first mate turned to Raymond, "The newcomer is surrendering."  
  
"Already?" Raymond barked with laughter, "Procyons--cowards to the end." He picked up a telescope and peered through it, hoping to get a glance at the defeated crew on the frigate's deck. He took a quick peer, then blinked in surprise.  
  
"It's Doppler! He's on that ship!" he exclaimed.  
  
In his head, the prospect of blowing up an enemy ship with the husband of the woman he fancied onboard was almost to tempting to prevent him from shouting "Fire! Fire! Fire!" 27 times so as to make sure that the ship was absolutely, positively, undeniably, and utterly destroyed. He knew better however--Amelia would eventually find out about the ordeal and have his head removed and reattached on a donkey's ass (A/N: Hehe...an ass's ass); also, it was against the rules of military engagement to destroy a ship that had officially surrendered. And, on the plus side, returning her nerd-husband would definitely earn him points with Amelia, helping his chances of landing a side-love affair when Amelia started to feel that the "obviously inferior" doctor was unable to provide her with proper "womanly needs and desires" in his clumsy older age--who knows? Maybe she was getting bored with the man already! The thought made Raymond smile.  
  
"Doctor Doppler is on that frigate," he said, pulling his mind away from his heated fantasies of steamy Amelia-lovin' interlaced with gratifying commercials of the Doppler divorce, "Leave it be and arrange to provide it protection if the Procyons launch an attack on it."  
  
"Aye, Captain," the first mate saluted.  
  
Raymond whirled on his heel and turned his scope toward the battle, where both sides were taking heavy shots.  
  
"I think they've ceased fire," Umar said, "That'll give me enough time to power up the weapons and join their side."  
  
"You have weapons?" Kolor blinked at him, "I didn't see any when we boarded."  
  
Umar rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well...I, er...didn't have them then. I acquired some at a port when we stopped to refuel."  
  
"So those are the 'arsenal-related surprises' you were talking about?" Doppler asked.  
  
"Aye," the Captain grunted, "If I wired everything properly, I should..." The Procyon pushed a button and with a series of loud creaking and scraping noises, a massive cannon-like weapon appeared from where the emergency skiffs were once held.  
  
Kolor gaped. "An XZ-37 laser cannon?"  
  
"TWO XZ-37 laser cannons," Umar replied.  
  
"Aren't those illegal, dad?" Dek spoke up.  
  
"Highly. So don't tell your mother."  
  
The Procyon Captain stood tall and straight in front of the helm and narrowed his eyes at the fight.  
  
"We're going in. Hang on to your hats, ladies and gents."  
  
Amelia stood fast on the command deck, thinking a mile a minute as a volley of cannon fire rang out around her. The two sides were pretty much at a stalemate--the Armada was larger, but still slightly crippled from the last engagement. Her particular vessel was doing fairly well and had fallen victim to few drastically horrible shots. Just as she was about to thank her lucky stars for that as well as her port gunner's clean shot at the flagship's engines, a shot from the other side threw her off her feet and sent her barreling into one of the masts. She hit hard, and lingered on her knees for a moment, winded, cursing the Procyon gunner should there be any broken ribs, ruptured organs, or injuries of a more frightful and uncorrectable sort. She pulled herself to her feet, taking solace in the fact that her gunner had returned in kind, even if he was unable to disable the ship's movement. She searched her military brain for a way to gain and upper hand as she caught her breath, but was soon distracted when her keen feline eye caught sight of an old Procyon freighter headed straight for the sortie, armed to the teeth. She whipped her head in the direction of the Nefarious, whose Captain was SUPPOSED to be watching that side of the fleet. Raymond appeared caught up in other matters at the moment, and, with a grunt of frustration, Amelia turned to her closest gunner. "Target that approaching vessel and fire on my command."  
  
The gunner complied, cocking the gun at Umar's ship.  
  
Amelia opened her mouth to give the command to unleash a laserball on the cargo ship, but quickly bit back the decision. She stared for a second in amazement as the vessel opened fire on the Armada itself!   
  
What IS it with the backwards nature of things on this mission? she thought to herself as she regained her bearings, Next they'll tell me Delbert's observatory is immaculate! Oh...I don't think I could handle all that much more crazy news.  
  
She returned her attention to the gunner. "New plan. Assist that vessel in destroying the smaller ships on the fringe."  
  
"Aye, Captain."  
  
Amelia pulled out her scope to better observe the battle itself. To it's credit, the small freighter didn't seem to need her help at all--whatever sort of weapon the ship had haphazardly strung to it's bottom seemed to be one of fantastic firepower. At least one of the smaller Armada ships was now in pieces, and a second was down for the count, trying to limp away before meeting a fate similar to that of it's sister. Amelia put down the scope and raised an eyebrow. Either that Captain is crazy as hell or incredibly brave. She ordered the fleet to advance as she watched the small ship zip around the overly-large Armada vessels. I'm apt to opt for crazy myself.  
  
"Whoooooooo-HAA!" Umar screeched as he piloted amongst the injured Armada vessels, "I've never felt so alive!"  
  
"Y-yes," Delbert trembled at the navigation console, gripping the controls until his knuckles turned white, "Let's aim to STAY alive, shall we?"  
  
"Not to worry there, Doc," Umar grinned, "Ain't nothing in the Armada that can stand up to the likes of a loaded XZ-37."  
  
"Yes, but can your ship withstand THEIR fire?!" he yelped as the Procyon dodged a shot from the flagship.  
  
"They'll have to hit me first," Umar growled. He shot a couple of times at the flagship as he whizzed past it. "How ya like THEM apples ya Armada bastards!?" he bellowed, following his taunt with a string of curses and hand signals that would make any gentlewoman back on Montressor faint dead.  
  
Umar pulled his ship clear of the combatants as the fire upon him increased, slowly edging his way back toward the confines of the Fleet. The Terran ships threw in their firepower, all too happy that this heavily-armed "wonder ship" had managed to occupy the Armada so they were highly vulnerable. It was mere minutes until the Armada called for retreat and the remaining vessels sped off as fast as they could, leaving a battered but victorious Fleet in their wake.  
  
Umar let out a 'whoop' as he watched the Procyons retreat. "Ha ha! Those smug little bastards! Did you see their faces when we let one on 'em?" He grinned from ear to ear as he slung an arm around Kolor's shoulder, who had been manning engineering to the best of his ability. "What'd they damage?"  
  
"I really couldn't say," Kolor laughed, "I have know idea what I'm looking at. I just stared at the screen and pushed buttons until the console stopped beeping."  
  
"Aye? Well," Umar said, looking over the console, "You dumped half my cargo hold in the heat of the battle it looks like, but no harm. We're still in one piece!"  
  
Doppler forced himself to relinquish his grip on navigation. "I-I...I've never...I mean...that was...my God I never want to fly with you again...sir."  
  
"To intense for ya?" Umar inquired, then shrugged, "Guess we can't all be thrill-seekers. Now! Let's get you Terrans back to your proper ships."  
  
"Can't argue with that," Nali said as she appeared from below deck. She turned to Umar, "Everything appears to be in one piece below deck, though your wife told me to tell you, and I quote, 'You tell that fat ignoramus I know about his cannons and I'm going to rip him limb from limb and shoot each and every part out of said cannons and straight into the nearest neutron star so help me...'."  
  
"Well, Loddy's okay then."  
  
Amelia didn't quite know what to make of the freighter's request to dock with her ship--the ship HAD helped the Fleet out, but if the past had taught her anything, it was that the Procyons couldn't be trusted. She stood ram-rod straight on the deck to receive the ship's Captain herself...flanked with a large security crew, of course. She showed no expression as a civilian Procyon man stepped onboard her ship and extended a hand to her.  
  
"Captain Umar, at your service, Captain..."  
  
"Doppler," she said, shaking his hand briefly.  
  
Umar looked surprised. "You don't say? I have a fellow onboard by that last name."  
  
Amelia gave a start. He couldn't mean... "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Oh. I apologize, Captain. Forgive my rudeness. I have a few POW's that belong to your fleet, I've been told."  
  
"Prisoners? You're RETURNING prisoners? On what grounds?"  
  
Umar laughed. "I know it sounds hard to believe, Captain, but I just thought it the right thing to do. There are no strings attached--I have about 9 soldiers or so, a lovely young mathematician and an astronomer. The star-guy says he works for you."  
  
Amelia cast her gaze to the boarding ramp connecting the two vessels where there were indeed 9 tired soldiers, one mathematician, and one astronomer who she was particularly glad to see intact. Though she may have wanted to rush to her husband and fuss over him and curse him for making her worry, she swallowed down the urge and simply nodded.  
  
"Well, Captain Umar, it seems you've done the Terran Empire quite a service."  
  
"Oh don't thank me, I just transported them here. Credit goes to that fella there," he said, pointing a finger at Kolor, who was watching the scene from the ramp, "He's the one who freed them from the Armada."  
  
"Indeed?" Amelia said, "Mr. Kolor, Captain Umar, if I may have a word with you in private...?"  
  
Umar turned to Kolor, who nodded. "We'd be happy to oblige, Captain."  
  
Amelia nodded in satisfaction, then turned to a few members of her security team. "See that the men--and woman--are cleaned up and allowed to rest. Keep an eye on the Procyon vessel while it's docked. Do not leave it unattended."  
  
"Aye, Captain," they replied, splitting up to perform they're duties.  
  
"Gentlemen," Amelia prompted the Procyons, waltzing to her stateroom, the rest to the security team in tow. When they reached the door, she halted her guards. "Wait here," she said, before turning to the Procyons, "Your are to unarm yourselves, gentlemen."  
  
Kolor gave up a small handgun he had in his coat, and Umar raised his hands in front of his body. "I'm unarmed," he said.  
  
Amelia turned to her men, who searched the length of their person, then nodded.  
  
"Very well then, if you will," she said, opening the door and allowing them in. The two men stood as the female Captain took a seat behind her desk.  
  
"Gentlemen, let me start out by saying that I AM armed, and that I received top marks in my military school days. I am certain we will want to avoid any conflict."  
  
"Of course," Kolor nodded.  
  
"Very good. Now, I want to take the time to thank you for returning my personnel. Some of the members of that groups are important to m-...my operation."  
  
Umar smiled. "Glad we could be of service."  
  
"You'll forgive me, I hope, when I say that despite your noble efforts, I am still a skeptic at heart. I didn't want to call your honor into question in front of my men, so I asked you here. Now, Captain Umar, what business would a man have confronting the Armada like you did?"  
  
"It seems strange, Captain Doppler, but I have a personal vendetta against the Armada. They've done my family no favors. I assure you, I am nothing but a civilian trying to do the right thing."  
  
"Indeed. I can't imagine the Procyons would want to destroy some of their finest, most expensive ships with the likes of massive illegal weapons."  
  
"No, I can't imagine they would. That reminds me--I have business to attend to on board. I have no real crew, so I'm afraid it's all work waiting for me."  
  
Amelia nodded. "You may go. I'll assist you with repairs, in return for the prisoners, but you will be kept under tight surveillance."  
  
"I understand. If I were you, I wouldn't trust a Procyon either. Thank you, Captain," Umar said, bowing before taking his leave.  
  
When the door shut behind the Captain, Amelia turned her attention on Kolor. "And you. Captain Umar's story seems plausible. But, what, pray tell, would you have a gain by freeing Terran POW's?"  
  
"Nothing. I could be killed for this."  
  
"I'm aware. So why do it?"  
  
"Moral reasons. I located an injured Terran below deck on the Llao and as a physician felt bound to help him. And I'm a bit of a pacifist, I'm afraid. I don't much like what my people are fighting for right now."  
  
"Then why join the Armada?"  
  
"Draft."  
  
"Ah," Amelia said, rising slowly from her chair, "Dr. Kolor, as much as I'd like to believe your story, as a good Captain, I can't put my entire faith in you. Your people are at war with mine."  
  
"Understood."  
  
"Regardless of my skepticism, you did bring my crewmen back to me. And for that, I am grateful, as are their friends and family."  
  
"I have a little of both myself. I'd like to hope that someone would have helped me were the roles reversed."  
  
Amelia sighed. "I must insist you stay on board my ship, under guard. In return for my caution, I will offer you protection against the Armada--if your intentions are truly as good as you say they are, letting you go free and unprotected would do you no justice; they will seek and kill you."  
  
"Very well, Captain. I shall do as you see fit, so long as I am able to be released at the end of this conflict and allowed to return to my mother and lover."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Kolor smiled. "With all due respect, Captain, may I ask you a question?"  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Your name. I find it curious that there are two "Doppler"'s on board. What relation do you have to Delbert?"  
  
"I didn't realize you were on a first-name basis with any of the prisoners," Amelia blinked.  
  
"Yes. Delbert was the one I rescued beneath deck. I got to know him quite extensively while I was hiding him away in my quarters."  
  
"I see," Amelia said, "And what makes you think we're related somehow?"  
  
"Same last names, you referred to some of the prisoners as being 'important' to you, and you got a VERY relived look when you saw him come onboard...if I may be so bold to say so."  
  
Amelia raised an eyebrow at the Doctor. "My, aren't we astute?"  
  
"They teach you to pay attention to detail in medical school."  
  
"Well, Dr. Kolor, I must say you've done me a great service; if you must know, you've returned my husband to me."  
  
"Hmm. Thought as much. Didn't really believe him when he said his wife was a seamstress."  
  
"A seamstress?" Amelia narrowed her eyes.  
  
"I imagine he lied to keep the information secret should I have turned out hostile. Still, by the look on your face, he should have chosen a different career."  
  
"I endured years of hardcore training at the interstellar academy, only to be called a seamstress," she muttered, making her way back to her desk. Her back was starting to ache where she had collided with the mast.  
  
"You're hurting," Kolor pointed out.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your back. You're hunched over slightly. And you look to be in pain."  
  
"A bruise. From the melee."  
  
Kolor raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Looks like it's causing you some trouble for a bruise. You could have broken ribs. Or injured kidneys."  
  
"Really...I'm perfectly fine."  
  
"You should get it examined."  
  
"Dr. Kolor, my physicians are tied up with REALLY hurt patients right now."  
  
"Then allow me," he offered, "I'm sure your anatomy is close enough to mine to allow a thorough diagnosis."  
  
"There's no need," Amelia insisted.  
  
"Nonsense. Let me have a look at it."  
  
"I'm a woman of naval training. I won't turn my back on a member of an enemy species."  
  
"Fair enough. But you need attention. And I am bound by my medical oath to help you."  
  
Amelia regarded him. It was tempting, and she WAS hurting  
  
As a precaution, Amelia pulled a pistol from a holster on her belt, "Make this quick," she said, "And keep in mind, I have a gun; try anything funny and I'll blow the nose right off your face."  
  
"Dually noted," Kolor nodded, "Now, lift up your shirt."  
  
Amelia gave him a look.  
  
"Well I can't very well look at your back through the jacket, now can I?" he smiled.  
  
Sighing, she conceded, taking her jacket off first, then pulling the blouse up to reveal a large bruise.  
  
"Hmmmm," Kolor pondered, leaning in close to the wound, "There is significant bruising..." He ran his fingertips along her lower ribs. "Nothing appears to be broken...kidney's seem ok..." He traced the wicked bruise to her side, where he poked twice. "Any pain?"  
  
"Only from your finger jabbing into my side."  
  
"That's a good sign."  
  
He continued his prodding. "I don't think your intestine is injured...oh, my! Your abdomen!"  
  
Amelia glanced down, then at the doctor. "And?"  
  
"And? That could be a severe hemorrhage!"  
  
"It's not," Amelia said dryly, pulling her shirt back down.   
  
"Really..."  
  
"It's not," Amelia repeated firmly. "No kidney damage, then?"  
  
"Uh...no."  
  
"Good. If you'll kindly be on your way, I have work to finish. My guards can take you to proper quarters."  
  
"But, Captain..."  
  
"It's not a bloody hemorrhage," she growled. (A/N: Bloody hemorrhage...lol. A little dumb pre-med humor there.)  
  
Kolor pursed his lips. "Well, either your innards are bleeding, you have a rather severe case of Mallki tapeworms, or you're pregnant. Now you're not pregnant, and you need to eat dead rare Corcki whale carcass to get those worms, so logic therefore dictates that your innards are bleeding."  
  
"I'm TELLING you that my innards are fine," Amelia narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
Kolor blinked. "And I...oh. You ARE pregnant then?"  
  
Amelia gave him a wry grin. "Doesn't take much to get an M.D. in the Procyon empire, does it?"  
  
Kolor shook the comment off. "Why, this is...this is fantastic! Does Delbert know?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I could tell him for you. Some women prefer that a professional do it."  
  
"You'll tell him nothing."  
  
"I'll leave it to you then?"  
  
"Eventually, yes."  
  
"Eventually?" Kolor asked, "With all due respect, Captain, I took notice. Much longer and he'll figure it out himself."  
  
"And I hope to be back home with a book and a warm cup of tea by then."  
  
"Captain..."  
  
"Not you, too. I do not need advice from a strange Procyon," she growled.  
  
"He deserves to know," he pressed on, despite the warning glare he received.  
  
"I know that. But this is Delbert...he'll try everything in his power to drag me back home. My place is here--I have a duty to fulfill."  
  
"Explain the situation to him."  
  
"I think he'll take this a little far. I must insist you not tell him."  
  
"He's a friend..."  
  
"And you're a physician. You CAN'T tell," she barked triumphantly.  
  
"Damn oath."  
  
"It's a bitch when it works against you, hmmmm?" Amelia grinned.  
  
Kolor laughed. "That it is." He made for the door. "Do stay safe, Captain. Try not to take anymore hits."  
  
"I don't like seeing a large bruise on my back anymore than you do. And besides, me getting bruises means your Armada's winning--and I hate that worse than a thousand large bruises."  
  
He opened the door, took a step out and looked at the guards, then turned back to her. "May I have my gun back?"  
  
"What did I tell you about my naval training? I never re-arm an unarmed Procyon if I can help it."  
  
"Fair enough. Am I confined to my quarters?"  
  
"You may eat in a galley during meals and will be allowed an occasional trip on deck--all escorted, of course."  
  
"Very well. Thank you, Captain."  
  
Amelia nodded as the door closed behind Kolor. The man seemed nice enough, but he WAS a Procyon and he DID serve aboard the Armada's flagship. One could never be too careful. She could observe him more closely in the days to come, and, if she deemed it, she could allow the man more freedom should he prove trustworthy. As for Umar, he would be closely guarded as well, and was of minimal threat--if he did try to fire his illegal weapons at such close range to her ship, he'd blow himself up in the process. He would find it impossible to get far enough away from the ship TO fire, as the rest of the fleet flanked him on all sides. Yes, Amelia hated to do it to two men who had returned her beloved husband, but it was a necessary evil. Besides, neither man seemed to mind too much. She pulled her uniform jacket back on and advanced toward the deck to give out orders. Pending a clean bill of health, her Dr. St. Grove would be releasing Delbert soon, and she figured she best get the business out of the way so as to allow some time with the Canid. She approached Turgevny and issued a string of orders, including scheduling an early morning meeting with the other Captains in order to establish what to do with the Procyons and foreign vessel now in custody. Her vessel had minimal damages done to it, and most of the crew were healthy, so Amelia trotted off to her bedroom afterwards, confident that she would have the ship up and ready to kick more Procyon butt in a day or so.   
  
In her bedroom, she stripped herself of her clothing, bathed quickly, then changed into a large, comfy set of white cotton pajamas. She sat on the bed and waited patiently for her husband, all the while jotting down some ideas and concerns to address with the group tomorrow on a faded parchment paper. She was about done with her list when her patience paid off--Delbert pushed open the bedroom door slowly, then smiled brightly when he saw her.  
  
"Amelia."  
  
Amelia folded her paper up then stood up from the bed. "Delbert." She approached him and embraced him, taking in his scent, the texture of his hair, and warmth of his body. She kissed him and held him tightly, reveling in his return.  
  
Okay. Loving embrace time is over. "What in the name of bloody hell were you thinking?" Amelia snapped, pulling herself from his hold and holding him at an arms length, "Jumping onto an enemy vessel? Planning a dangerous escape? Using a ship with illegal weapons? Are you MAD?"  
  
"It was stupid, I know, but for my credit, I knew nothing about the weapons."  
  
Amelia pursed her lips.  
  
"Besides," he continued, "It all worked out for the best. No sense dwelling on what might have happened."  
  
"Quite. Just don't do it again."  
  
Delbert sighed. He knew that this wouldn't be the end of the comments about his stupid plan, but he WAS thankful she was going to let it drop for the night. He began to dig for pajamas in the dresser drawers while Amelia sat on the bed again.  
  
"That Kolor fellow," Amelia said, smoothing the quilt by her side, "He said he rescued you."  
  
"Oh, yes," Delbert said, shrugging on a nightshirt, "I quite possibly owe him my life."  
  
"You believe him to be trustworthy then?"  
  
"Yes. Quite so. Don't you?"  
  
Amelia arched an eyebrow at him while she slipped under the covers. "I'm afraid I'm not inclined to trust Procyons as a whole. You understand...or do I have to tell the 'Sergeant Cowell Spine-removal story again?'"  
  
Delbert put his hands out in front of him in surrender. "No! No, I believe I see your point."  
  
"Made you sick enough the first time, eh?" she grinned at him.  
  
"Well, hearing that a man had his spine removed--while alive, mind you--with nothing but a rusty hand knife tends to make normal people queasy," he said. As if to help illustrate his statement, his face turned a shade of green.   
  
Amelia smiled. "Ah, I missed you Doctor."  
  
"And I you," he replied, climbing into bed next to her, "But please consider allowing Kolor more freedom than I hear you've given him. He is a good man."  
  
Amelia thought a moment, then sighed. "I will take your account into consideration. I've already told him that he won't be treated as a prisoner...just not as a trusted crewmember. He knows he has to earn my full trust."  
  
Delbert nodded. Given Amelia's past, there was likely little he could say to get her to put 100% faith in a member of her enemy's race, but Kolor was starting out with a much more sterling opinion in Amelia's eyes than the astrophysicist knew any other Procyon might have been given. He leaned over to kiss her lightly on the lips. After she smiled back at him, he extinguished the light at his bedside, leaving the room in darkness.  
  
There was silence for a few moments, until Amelia spoke. "Delbert?"  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"A SEAMSTRESS?"  
  
Delbert blushed so furiously that he almost swore he glowed. "Er...no offence, dear."  
  
Amelia laughed. "You are an infuriating man, Doctor. A seamstress...really."  
  
Delbert kissed her neck. "I could make it up to you."  
  
"Make up damaging my reputation? Pray tell, what would you like to put on the table?" she joked.  
  
She felt Delbert smile against her neck. "I think you know what I mean."  
  
Amelia gulped. There was still the matter of her "secret." The attire she was wearing did a splendid job of hiding it, but wearing anything less than that would certainly make her husband aware of the small, but noticeable bulge.   
  
"Hmmm, I think I'll forgo that tonight, dear," she said, holding back a laugh as she felt him frown against her cheek, "But you can certainly hold me and tell me how lovely I am and how lucky you are to have me."  
  
Delbert smiled. "You're lovely."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"And I'm so very lucky to have you."  
  
"Oh, Doctor, you are so very romantic."  
  
"And even though you'll not do me the pleasure of intimacy," he spoke, placing kisses along her arm, "I feel utterly in love with you, just lying here."  
  
Amelia laughed. "Delbert, you poor creature. You're no Casanova, you know that."  
  
He chuckled. "What else would you like to hear then?"  
  
"That you adore me."  
  
"I do adore you."  
  
"And respect me."  
  
"More than anyone."  
  
"And you'll never, EVER do something stupid like board an enemy vessel without warrant."  
  
"I still maintain that I had warrant, but as you wish, dear."  
  
"Tell me that you'll love me no matter what."  
  
"Of course I will."  
  
"Even when I'm old?"  
  
"I'll be older. I'd worry about you loving me."  
  
She smiled. "You'll age gracefully dear, I'm sure. You'll love me when I'm larger? Grayer? Senile?"  
  
"I'll love every square inch, every silver hair, and I'll even remind you every hour on the hour, should you forget."  
  
"Oooh. Nice touch, dear."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"That'll do, I think," she sighed, "You've been away awhile, but a girl can only take so much flattery."  
  
"So that's all? Shall we sleep now?"  
  
"Yes, I think so," she said, pulling his hand into hers, and slinging his arm over her to rest near her heart, "You've promised to love me whatever happens, never to call me a 'seamstress' again, and to refrain from ship jumping for the rest of your bloody days. I think that's enough promises for one man, for one night."  
  
Delbert yawned. "Good night, dear. It's good to be back."  
  
"It's good to have you back," Amelia said quietly, "Don't you ever leave me again."  
  
"Noted," he muttered, nodding off into sleep.  
  
"I love you, Delbert," she said, kissing the hand on the arm draped over her body.  
  
Silence greeted her, followed by a soft snore. She chuckled. "No, not a Casanova."  
  
To be continued...  
  
Okay. So I'm lazy. I've been on summer vacation for a few weeks now, so I have no excuse for why this is so late. Thank you to all those who have diligently reviewed. For those that write also, I am trying to return the favor :)  
  
To Helgmelia, who pinned me on the "Amelia's notice from the navy" thing--I know she's not in the navy anymore, and I thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt by thinking that I covered this base somehow in a previous fic, but truth is, I didn't --' (Bad J., bad!) So yes, I killed cannon there, and yes, I'm a dummy b/c I KNOW I broke cannon and I love accurate stories, but I HAVE put a lot of thought into how I could make that little faux pas work. A draft maybe? Or maybe she's just paying off a favor of some sort? I dunno (whoo...I'm a creative genius, no?), but I apologize for a blatant mistake. Anyway, thanks for the positive feedback despite the mistake. :)  
  
Thanks also go to other authors who have given me encouragement, including Ashcountry1987 (WindGuardian87), who--despite thinking I was a dude :)--has turned out to be really cool and great about giving me feedback above and beyond the reviews. And of course, what shout out would be complete without a "Hey ya" to my girl, Tmyres77, my muse (read: nag ;P), my encouragement, and my hysterical friend.  
  
So readers, go read fanfics attached to all of the above mentioned authors. They all have a little bit of special talent to offer, and encouragement = more A/D fics, less Jimfics. So go--do your part to make the world a better place ;)  
  
Aloha,  
  
J. 


	9. Chapter 9

CH.9

Disclaimer: If it's in all the other fanfics, it belongs to Disney. If you just find it here, well, it's mine. As Disney is uber-rich and I only own $2.58, the GOOD characters clearly belong to them. And the nice cars and flat screen T.V.'s. I bet they even have a really spiffy-cool smoothie machine somewhere. The good kind.

What happened that morning was monumental and novel to be sure. For the  
first time since they had begun sharing a bed, Delbert managed to awaken  
earlier than Amelia. The first rays of morning were peeking into her  
cabin, and it was this that finally stirred her. She groaned in protest  
to the day--sleep hadn't come easy to her last night, and when it finally  
had, it was interrupted more than one time by uncomfortable back pains from  
her injury, horrible thoughts of Procyons, and the sharp chill that washed  
over her when Delbert took all of the covers for himself. Twice. Still,  
despite the fact that she felt as if her body were finally starting to  
shut down in protest to her crazy schedule or poor bodily maintenance, she  
found herself shocked with herself and slightly shocked at her husband  
that he was already awake and dressed for the day.

"My God. You've actually beat me to waking up."

Delbert smiled. "Yes. You're losing your touch, Captain."

Amelia huffed. "If you're going to beat me at something, I beg you,  
switch over to cleaning rooms." She dragged herself out of bed and padded  
over to her wardrobe.

"Are you alright?" her husband asked as her finished shrugging into his  
overcoat, "You seem a little...worn."

"War tends to tire people out, Doctor."

"No doubt," Doppler said, looking at her, "But I haven't seen you this  
worse for the wear since that time on Treasure Planet."

"Oh, come now. I was FAR worse off then."

"Well, you're very close then."

Amelia sighed, as she pulled on her uniform, thankful that Delbert had  
taken to the bathroom to wash his face. "I'm tired, I'm injured, and I'm  
almost fresh out of ideas on how to hold the Procyons at bay. Add that to  
the fact that I had previously spent my nights fretting about the  
whereabouts of my husband, and yes, you might say I'm very much worn."

Delbert frowned. "I think you should take the morning off. Get some  
sleep, maybe?"

Amelia groaned. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have the time necessary.  
There are things to be done, people to talk with, Procyon brains to  
scatter..."

"Sleep through breakfast. You've skipped meals before--though I don't  
like it--and it will get you at least another hour or so."

Amelia shook her head and surveyed her fully dressed appearance in the  
mirror. "There's no breakfast to skip. I've called a meeting to decide  
what to do with your Procyon friends."

"Cancel it?" he meekly suggested.

"And undermine my own authority?" Amelia balked, "Never."

"Skip lunch, then. Felids supposedly love power naps."

"Not possible, Doctor."

Delbert gaped at her. "You don't have something planned in its place?"

"Only lunch. And a BIG one. I'm so hungry right now I'd ram an Orcus  
Galacticus with this ship if it meant I could put it in a stew and eat  
it."

Delbert regarded her, tempted to open his mouth and protest the way the  
his wife was abusing her own body, but he swallowed the urge down, partly  
because she wouldn't listen anyway, and partly because she was already  
halfway out the door of her stateroom, on her way to the deck. He grabbed  
her arm to stop her before she stepped into the brightening day.

"Please. Don't work too hard now. Take care of yourself."

Amelia smiled. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

"I can't help but worry when it comes to you, Amelia. You do push a  
little too hard sometimes."

"Only when necessary, Doctor. The sooner we get out of this retched  
quadrant, the happier we'll all be."

Delbert sighed. "Still..."

"I'll grab a purp from the galley on the way to the meeting room and try  
to catch a few minutes rest before dinner. Satisfied?"

"No. But that'll do for now I suppose."

Amelia touched his cheek affectionately, and then left him standing in the  
doorway, watching her as she made her way across the deck.

Captain Raymond squirmed in his chair for the third time in the last half hour—the morning meeting was already longer than anyone had ever thought it would be, and Amelia had invited the help of both Captain Umar and Dr. Kolor in crippling the Armada once and for all. The thought of two enemies-- whose intentions may or may not be as they had sworn they were --being in such close proximity made the seasoned soldier a bit nervous. In his head, he had already entertained several possible ways the Procyons could lash out as well as ways to deter them. Hopefully, the nagging voice at the back of his consciousness was wrong, and the two men would remain docile. He blinked a few times to clear his mind of the fog that was slowly building up in his mind as Kolor spoke in response to a question Raymond had not heard asked.

"…policy. In fact, your problem may be easier to solve than you think…if you are willing to make a bold move in order to achieve your goal."

"Bold?" Amelia inquired, resting her chin on the heel of her hand and peering at the physician across the table from her.

"Well, it would involve serious risk."

One of the Captains of the smaller ships tugged at his collar. "I don't know about that. I mean, we ARE down quite a few men, due to death or injury, and our ships have seen better days."

Kolor smiled. "Luckily for you, this plan involves little of either. Not as a decisive factor, anyway."

"What did you have in mind?" Amelia asked.

"Captain Umar and I discussed the situation last night—between the two of us, we believe that we can lead you in a strike against the Armada flagship."

"But what about the rest of the fleet?" one of the other Captains spoke up.

"We're going to use the flagship to handle them," Umar shrugged, as if the solution were simple.

"You want us to commandeer the flagship!" the nervous Captain exclaimed.

Umar grinned wickedly. "Too hardcore for you, lad?"

"It's simply something not many honest Naval officers are trained to do," Amelia replied, "Besides, how are we to get close enough to the flagship to take it, and, more importantly, why would we want to?"

"By using the flagship, we have access to weapons, codes, and other things your fleet doesn't. Plus, using their ship will prevent damage to yours. It may be safer as well—Procyons aren't prone to shooting their own ships."

"But suppose it necessary?" Raymond asked, "Then what?"

"If defeat looked eminent, the rest of the fleet would destroy the flagship—but, we did tell you the move had its risks," Umar pointed out.

"Alright," Amelia nodded, "But how exactly are we to find and board said ship?"

"The Armada ships are a little more than splintered, Captain, and the Commander of the fleet will likely take the ships for repair. Plus, according to the Ily Accords, he is required to drop off his injured to the nearest port with proper medical facilities."

"So you think he's going to dock the fleet somewhere?"

"I KNOW he's going to dock the fleet somewhere," Kolor corrected, "Plus, because of past incidents with warring factions of tribes, the ships are required to power down all weapons for the first 72 hours in port, while background checks are run."

"Even on government ships?" Raymond asked.

"Yes. There has been more than one occasion where a faction disguised a ship as military."

"Okay, so the prospect IS pretty good. Now, what's to prevent the Armada form seeing us and blowing us away before we get close enough?"

"I humbly volunteer to give my ship to the cause. The Procyon design will throw the Armada and port masters off long enough," Umar said.

"How many of our men will this require?"

"A hundred, maybe 120," Umar said, "My ship probably can't fit anymore than that."

Nervous Captain spoke again, "This plan is all well and good, but you've forgotten a key factor—we don't know where they headed! By the time we search all the local Procyon ports, they'll be fully replenished and ready to fight."

Kolor seemed unfazed by this. "On the contrary, Captain, I know exactly where they'll be."

"How?" Amelia asked.

"Like I said earlier, the fleet needs both repairs and to drop off the injured into proper care. There is only one port in the immediate area with capabilities to provide both."

Amelia pursed her lips in thought, mulling over the prospect. "This idea of yours is quite dangerous, both to your property and my people. Despite this, I can't say I've had or heard a better alternative," she turned to her cohorts, "Well, gentlemen? What do you think of the situation?"

"We've launched crazier assaults," an elderly Captain said.

"I don't know…" Nervous Captain said, "It sounds too prone to failure."

"Any better ideas?" the elderly Captain asked.

Nervous Captain sighed. "Not as of yet," he grumbled.

Amelia leaned back in her chair. "The fact of the matter is, I'm not exactly thrilled to death with this plan; however, I don't see any alternative that is possible, and if we don't act now, we'll lose our opportunity to catch the Procyons before they catch us."

A burly Captain stood. "What if these two are lying? What if this is a ploy to deliver us to the enemy?"

"Our forces will simply blow their heads off when we realize the betrayal, if you'll pardon my plain speaking," Amelia shrugged, "We clearly outnumber the Captain and the Doctor. Besides, it's a chance we take—sitting here will get us killed just the same. I'm in favor of the idea. Due to it's high risk, I personally volunteer to lead the squad who will do the hijacking."

Raymond turned to Amelia, "I'd be honored to be your second, Captain."

Amelia thought to herself. On the one hand, Raymond seemed to always be chasing her, regardless of her marital status, but on the other hand, he was a very experienced officer, and a decorated one at that.

"Very well, Captain Raymond, I'll take you up on that offer. Your duty will be rounding up a hundred of your best fighters. I want the roster by this afternoon."

"Aye, ma'am."

"As for the rest of you, I want you to be ready for standby—if our mission fails, you must be ready for an offensive."

A chorus of "Aye"'s sounded throughout the room.

"Dr. Kolor, Mr. Umar, please give the necessary coordinates to Captain Savary here. In the meantime, I have some other business to attend to. You are dismissed, gentlemen," Amelia said.

Amelia tried to get comfortable in the bowels of Umar's ship. He was right—it was fairly small. The vast majority of the men occupied the half-empty cargo bay, engineering, and the galley. Amelia herself felt compelled to find a place on the ship to spend a few moments alone and had chosen a small alcove just off of the main engine room. She silently went over the final plan in her head one last time that night, just to be sure she had it right before she tired to steal a little much needed (and even more desired) sleep. She curled into a ball in a corner of the alcove and thought briefly about Delbert, whom she had left on the Fleet's main ship. After they had secured the Llao, the rest of the fleet would move in to cover the retreat of any other ships. Delbert, as he had had more exposure to Procyon ships than most of her younger crew, was left to assist Turgevny in his part of the mission. As she pulled her knees in closer to her body, she cursed its recent changes. Is everything working against me now? she thought to herself, What bloody next? She felt her insides twitch—the feeling had started two days ago, but still unnerved her, and she found it just weird enough to chase away the possibility of sleep. She glared at her stomach.

"That'll be enough of that," she grumbled. Apparently, her womb's resident resented being scolded and persisted with what it was doing. "Honestly," she sighed, "I have enough on my plate right now. The unborn even want to meddle with me." Despite her exasperation, the twitching only continued. "Just wait until I get my hands on you," she muttered, "You'll be the youngest child ever to receive a lifetime grounding." She tired once again to fall asleep.

"Amelia!" a voice called out to her, just as her eyes began to close.

She groaned inwardly and looked up to see Captain Raymond standing over her. Far too tired to deal with his lack of formality, she simply asked, "Yes?"

"We'll be approaching the port within the hour. Captain Umar is bringing the docking side onto long-range viewscreen right now, if you want to take a look."

Amelia suddenly felt recharged as she stood and straightened her jacket. "Splendid. Let's go see how well our little plan is going to work."

"Well, I'd hope," Raymond said, allowing her to exit the room first.

""If it doesn't," Amelia reminded him, "It may be the last 'hope' you'll ever make."

To be continued…

A/N: Hola all! Good lord, has it been awhile or what! Let me tell you, technology is great when it works, but when it doesn't….I lose all my work! Booooo! Anywho, now that the semester is officially over for me in 16 hours (and two finals if you wanna get technical), I may be able to return to my "try to regurgitate everything I lost" duties. In any case, SAVE ALL YOUR CRUD TO DISKS ladies and gentlemen!

Thanks to all that have contacted me, wondering what chasm I had fallen into. And double thanks to Tmyres77, who rocks so hard, aside from the fact that she "encourages" me a little TOO vehemently to write.  Just kidding, girl. I love our conversations! Everybody should read HER stuff! Don't wait time here!

Wait…REVIEW…then go.

Aloha,

J.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

Disclaimer: TP is not mine. The only thing I own is the utter satisfaction in being able to tell T-Money that, YES, I finally got around to posting this.

Captain Maltor would have years to wonder just how they managed to escape the notice of the posted lookout, but nonetheless, the Imperial forces made it aboard the Llao, and the only warning he was given as he was woken from a sound, half ale-induced slumber was from that of the ship's newly repaired klaxon system. The piercing sound greeted him all the more loudly as he emerged in the hallway and began barking commands and demanding explanations.

"…I don't know how they got on board," he heard his assistant Sloek explaining in a winded voice to a unit commander, "Just locate the members of the boarding party and bring them here. Captain Maltor will likely want to deal with them personally."

Despite the urgency of the situation, Maltor couldn't help but be impressed by just how right the man was. When he found those responsible for this, they would pay for it with their lives.

Raymond tagged closely—VERY closely—behind Amelia as they tried to make their way into the bowels of the ship. They had personally taken on the job of sabotaging the engines to prevent escape. Given how deep the location was in the ship, Amelia couldn't bring herself to send the much younger, much less experienced members of her strike team. No, this job required a special sort of stealth and finesse, and would prove to be fatal if not handled properly.

The two of them took refuge under a stairwell as a group of sleepy Procyon soldiers charged by, weapons in hand, as they headed for the main deck above. Amelia took a moment to thank whatever deity was listening for the fortune they had met with so far, and beseeched them to extend it just a little further. She then turned her head to check and see if the coast was clear. She was relieved to see it was—she was beginning to cramp up in the small space and Raymond's hot breath on her neck was becoming more than a little irritating.

"Need you stay so close?" she hissed.

"Trying to keep you safe, Amelia," he grinned.

She rolled her eyes, but then concentrated her full efforts on making it down the hall. With a gesture of her head, the two of them made the way down the length as quickly as they could manage. Amelia's ears flicked a few times as she tried to pick up a trace of the sounds of the engine room. She thought she heard a telltale hum on her left, and quickly sped into the next left-handed hallway she could find. They made it down the length of that one, and down a dark stairway when Amelia finally pinpointed the sound she had heard. Now confident that they were going the right way, she barreled ahead as fast as she could, amazed that the much larger Raymond was able to keep in step with her so easily.

They were almost to the heavy doors of the engine room when a voice cried out, "Intruders!"

Amelia whirled around to see a stout gunman fumbling with his weapon. She pointed her own at him.

"Drop it," she warned.

The man did not comply, however, and raised his rifle to her head.

It took only a fraction of a second more, it seemed, and Raymond was absolutely stunned to find it had happened. He had seen a quick shot in his time, but the speed with which Amelia reacted to the gunman and fired her own weapon was uncanny. In the time it took him to draw a breath, the Procyon was on the floor, dead from a precisely lethal shot to the head. Raymond looked at his partner in amazement.

"He should have dropped it," she muttered, then headed for the door, weapon held at the ready. With a booted foot, she kicked open the door and in the same instant shot the guard waiting on the other side. Raymond stepped in beside her and the two of them quickly ducked behind some crates filled with spare parts as the guard's companions returned fire. While the Procyons had them outnumbered two to one, the Academy-trained Captains clearly had the advantage in skill, and the better marksmen won the day eventually. When the volley of fire ceased, Amelia listened closely for further movement. Hearing nothing, she stood.

"It's likely somebody heard that," she said, "Let's blow these engines and get out of here before the entire cavalry is sent in."

Raymond couldn't argue with that assessment.

They planted the small explosives in the places where Umar had instructed them; the machinery was at its weakest there, and damage would cause a breakdown that would be impossible to fix quickly. Once all the explosives were in place, the two of them took cover and set off the cascade mechanism. One by one, the small devices blew, showering metal and fire all over the deck. Once the noise and the smoke were nearly clear, Amelia listened closely for any advancing troops. She heard a small group to her left, and while they lamented their situation with "Damn!'s and "What the Hell?'s, she was able to squint out their location and take them down with almost perfect efficiency.

The two of them stepped over the bodies as the fled to the main deck, looking to each other only to share a look of victory as they heard the rest of the team begin to power up the ship's weapons from above deck. They emerged to find an all out mini-war on the main deck, complete with thick firefight, bleeding wounded and loud bellowing.

Amelia surveyed the situation carefully. It seemed they had only gained control of the starboard side cannons, but easily half the Procyon fleet rested on the other side, and would they would therefore need a weapon or two to be operational in their cause. She conveyed this sentiment to Raymond.

"We'll secure one apiece," he said in a rushed breath, "The two largest ones—that should give us ample firepower to hold them off before the rest of our ships can come and give us a hand."

Amelia nodded and fought her way toward the massive laserball cannon. She gritted her teeth in frustration at her slow progress—the Procyons were nothing if they weren't good fighters, and even sleep deprived, they were proving to be a formidable match. Now, more than ever, she cursed her recent weight gain and found herself just narrowly escaping more than a couple of shots.

She was only a few feet away from her destination when she came face to face with a particularly large soldier. He swung with his massive arm and knocked her to the ground, sending her blaster flying. She blinked several times to clear her swimming head, and manage to kick him in the knee just as he reached down to grab her around the neck. His knees gave way, and he rocked the deck with his tumble. Amelia managed to clamor away as fast as physically able, and grabbed the first weapon she laid her fingers on. It happened to be a saber, still gripped in a dead man's hand, but it would certainly do better than nothing at the moment; no matter WHAT condition she was in, she would never be a match for her opponent in hand-to-hand combat. She didn't put much thought into her actions, and found that time blurred as she charged for him. When her mind caught up with her body, the man lay dead at her feet, run through many times in the gut. Amelia dropped the saber in favor of her gun and left the dead man lying there as she hopped on top of the cannon. She flipped a few switches and a warm hum greeted her as the weapon began to charge. She looked to her side to see that Raymond had also been successful in procuring a weapon, and was handing its operation off to a young 1st lieutenant.

"You," Amelia pointed to one of her charges, who had just limped away from a fight of his own, "Man this weapon. When it charges fully, take aim at the Armada ships across the way."

"Yes, ma'am," he saluted, then threw himself into the seat, happy for the brief rest.

Amelia took a minute to envy the fact that the soldier got to take those precious moments to sit, but then she grabbed another of her unoccupied men, and instructed that he defend the gunner with his life. After the command was promised to be obeyed, she hopped down from the platform and joined the fight. She made way for the command post of the ship, hoping to further sabotage any possible escape for the flagship. Opting not to use the stairwell, she threw herself onto the rigging and climbed up to the mast as fast as she could. Her hands grasped the wood just as a shot blazed past her face, searing the fur just under her right eye. She perched precariously on the mast and shot back from her good vantage point, all the while trying to inch her way to the sails just over the bridge. When she had made it there, she blasted apart a few pieces of rigging until she came up with a rope of appropriate length to allow her to lower herself to the floor. She sighed as she remembered a time when she could turn flips from the same point (and alternatively impress Canids), but thanked her lucky stars she had been fortunate enough to have such assistance at a time such as this. When she reached the bridge below, she helped those of her men already there make quick work of the defending Procyon officers. Then, no longer impeded by firefight, she shot up the main controls until she was sure they were irreparable without at least 6 or 7 hours worth of intensive work.

Convinced that the ship wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, she set up the small communications beacon she had tucked in her pocket. With a push of the button, she signaled the rest of her fleet to come and assist them. She had originally toyed with the idea of not getting the rest of the ships involved at all, but at the moment, her luck was going strong, and she chose not to ruin her good fortune by giving in to overconfidence. With the signal set, she turned around to rejoin the firefight below.

She made it only three paces before she was pinned to the wall, her face pressed against the rough and worn boards. The pressure on her shoulders made her release her gun against her wishes. The hand that held her skull held it firm as he hissed, "Who is that beacon for?"

Amelia tried to struggle, but found the effort useless. When she offered the attacker no explanation, she felt the cold tip of a saber at her neck.

"Won't tell me your secret, eh?" he growled, "Very well. Take it to your grave then."

To Be Continued…

A/N: Wow. It's been a long long time, but here's 10. I dedicate this chapter (even if it sucks ;p) to Tmyres77, since it was her who insisted (A LOT) that I get off my lazy arse and post it. For you girl. ;)

Love to all my readers. Hope you enjoyed the ending to this chapter. :evil grin:

(C'mon! She LIVES people! LOL)

Well, review and hate on me anyway. ;)

J.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Even after all this time, Treasure Planet still belongs to Disney. Though if I had it, I'd gladly pass it along to my ever-patient fans. Enjoy, guys. 

The sensation of cold steel and hot alcohol-infused breath on her neck lasted no more than a mere few seconds in real time, but if asked, Amelia would have to swear that the sensation lasted far longer. The Procyon lieutenant who held her at mercy had one large, strong hand on her head, his thumb and forefinger squeezing her temples so tightly that she was almost certain he would crush her skull. The other hand twitched in an odd mixture of delight and agitation as it held a cool saber at her jugular, preparing to stick her through for not answering the lieutenant's question to his satisfaction. All she knew was near darkness from the squeezing, the stench of foul breath and the trickle of warm blood that had started to form under the pressure of the blade's position on her neck. There was fear, and perhaps regret, and then—

--And then she was free.

She felt the grip on her head loosen as the larger man fell to the floor. Amelia was confused for a moment before she caught sight of Raymond standing over the now dead man, a large, smoking rifle in his hand.

"A little close there?" he grinned cockily, clearly proud of the fact that he had rescued his long coveted damsel.

"A little," Amelia replied wryly as she shook her head quickly to clear it. "The beacon is still working?"

"Aye," he replied, taking his eyes from her only long enough to lift his rifle and shoot a Procyon solider who was trying to make his way up to the command center where they stood, "The rest of the fleet should have gotten the message by now anyhow, and hopefully will be along soon."

"Good," Amelia nodded as she gathered up her dropped weapon, as well as a miscellaneous pistol found on her would-be killer, "I'd just as soon finish this mission up quickly. We've gotten what we need completed, but I'm not sure our good luck will continue for much longer—I'd like to get the men out of here while we have the chance."

"Agreed," Raymond nodded, "I'm spent more than enough time on this ship, I think." He reloaded his rifle's power supply and then followed Amelia back down to the main deck. "You're bleeding, by the way."

"Kind of you to notice," Amelia quipped as she took cover behind some supply crates as a fresh wave of newly awakened and armed soldiers advanced from the bowels of the ship.

"You've a lovely neck, Amelia," Raymond grinned, "It's hard not to notice."

"Shut up and shoot your gun. I'll deal with your lack of tact and your gross insubordination later."

Turgevny was in the middle of assuring all of the fleet's members were amply armed when the signal from the beacon reached him. It took him no time at all to alert the other ships and get them to move out in order to assist the commandeering group.

Delbert had been nervous and relieved at the same time when the beacon's signal came—on the one hand, the fact that the beacon was going off implied that his dear wife was around to set it off, but on the other hand, he knew that the signal was also a cry for backup, a notification that, while their part of the mission had succeeded, they now required help as the crew of the Llao began to discover what the Imperials had done to them. When the Procyon captain and crew figured out the extent to which the group had crippled them, Delbert was more than sure that the Procyons would try their damnedest to retaliate and give back at least as bad as they were given. He stood on the main deck now, one hand curled around the side railing, the other tapping the gun at his hip restlessly. The feeling of having a loaded weapon by his side was, even now, a foreign feeling to him, but Turgevny has insisted that EVERYONE, from the most decorated Captain to the lowliest cabin boy be armed and ready to fight if need be. They would be coming into an enemy spaceport teeming with members of a crippled armada fleet—members who might resort to desperate measures if need be. Delbert was lost in thought about these so-called "desperate measures" and didn't notice Dr. Kolor approaching him from behind until the man was at his side and had begun to speak.

"I hope that all goes well and you find you don't have to use that," Kolor said softly.

Delbert jumped at the sound of the other man's voice, then straightened, a somber look on his face. "Yes, I hope you're right."

Kolor smiled at him. "You are not angry with me, for sending you and your friends into such peril?"

Delbert looked at the other man. "You didn't sentence us to peril. We were resigned to it the moment we set out on this mission."

Kolor smiled sadly. "Yes, my people have caused a great deal of grief for yours over all this, haven't they?"

Delbert frowned. "I'm afraid I can't argue with you on that."

Kolor nodded.

Delbert cleared his throat. "Before all this happened, I'd have taken you all for land-grubbing barbarians who just wanted to steal my wife away from myself and my home, but now…I owe my life to not one, but two Procyon men. And assuming this mission succeeds, I will perhaps even owe you my wife's life as well. And for that, I am eternally grateful. I thank you, Dr. Kolor, for everything, even if our people may never find peace with one another."

Kolor grinned, then chuckled. "I do believe that's the most eloquent thing I've ever heard you say, Doppler. I am honored."

Delbert blushed. "Yes, it may very well be. It's a shame Amelia isn't here to have heard it. I'm sure she would have been impressed, I think."

"We shall tell her all about it when we see her next," Kolor said as he placed a comforting hand on the other man's shoulder, "But for now, we are approaching the battle, and our destinies. Let us fight alongside one another to the end on this—Procyon and Imperial alike."

"Who's eloquent now?" Delbert half-grinned as he swallowed nervously.

"Figured I'd keep the good speech flowing," Kolor shrugged. "Enough speech for now, though. Come, Doppler. Let us finish this battle."

Raymond was nearly ready to move onto his third and final rifle power supply when the Imperial fleet arrived, blazing full speed ahead to the still-docked flagship. The non-crippled ships around the Llao had sprung into action then, ready to fend off the intruders that were threatening their main ship and commanding officer. Both Raymond and Amelia were more than happy to see the arrival of the reinforcements—while the ambush crew had done well in their mission, the Procyons were beginning to filter more soldiers from the neighboring ships onto the Llao and the tides of battle might soon turn from their favor if their own people did not arrive soon.

Amelia kept one eye on the battle on the Llao's main deck and another on the skies, where her fleet was once again taking on what was left of the Armada. Some of the Armada ships met a quick end and a few of her own ships were able to trickle through the barricade to the Llao, but most stayed still a good distance away, caught in a fierce firefight with the other minor Armada ships. Amelia immediately recognized one of the ship making their way to the Procyon flagship as her own temporary command and was grateful that the most powerful and well-armed ship, at the command of what was likely the most talented first mate in the fleet was coming to aid her. The ship was making its way to the port bow of the Llao and was so close that Amelia could almost make out the gunners on the laser cannons as they stood at the ready.

It was then that a smaller, more agile ship from the Armada came from below to stand between the advancing Imperial ship and the flagship. Amelia's heart sank as the dark vessel blocked help from coming to her and her soldiers. Knowing that help would be slow in coming, and doubting whether or not it would come from her ship's crew at all, Amelia took up the immediate fight in front of her anew, determined to fend off the Llao's offensive long enough for some help—any help—to arrive.

Delbert could see the fight taking place very clearly from the scope he was holding. The ship was so close to the Llao, in fact, that it would be mere moments before he would require no scope at all to watch the going-ons. Delbert had never had a stomach for fighting (and he was now thoroughly convinced he would NEVER possess such a thing), but, strangely enough, he had managed to scrounge up just enough will to fight. He stood poised (as poised as Delbert Doppler could possibly be) on the deck, ready to help bring about an end to this struggle.Just as he was ready to join his wife on the decks of the Llao, however, a smaller, but somehow deadlier looking ship crossed their path, blocking their ship's access to the flagship. The smaller ship sped toward them, clearly hoping to fight with the compliment on board the intruding Imperial vessel. Panic crossed Delbert's face as he realized that battle was no longer a figment of his imagination, but rather, right on top of him.

The small Procyon vessel opened fire first, and, though the guns were small and few, managed to put a sizable dent in the hull of the larger Imperial ship. Delbert lost his footing as the ship rocked violently under him, and he had to screw up some courage to stand again on his shaking legs.

Turgevny ordered that fire be returned, even as the small vessel continued to approach, clearly in an attempt to board the much better armed vessel and slay those aboard. The Imperial ship only managed a shot or two on the vessel, for it proved far more agile than its huge foe. It wasn't long before both ships abandoned the idea of firing on the other and risking damage to their own ship at such a close range in favor of preparing for hand-to-hand combat. Delbert felt queasy as the first Procyon solider jumped onto the main deck, gun firing wildly. It was only the quick reflexes of the Procyon physician that saved him from a shot wound.

"Really, Delbert," Kolor said as he dragged the other man behind a set of crates for cover, "You should be more careful. I can't cure death."

"Noted," Delbert swallowed as his shaking hands tried to power up his weapon. When the pistol gave a hearty "beep!" to notify that the weapon was ready for use, he looked up, only to notice that the number of Procyons now on board had multiplied substantially.

The fight a deck was sheer chaos, with laser fire, smoke and bodies flying everywhere. Though the fighting was limited to the main deck and command center thus far, it wouldn't be long before the Procyons advanced below deck to the armament and engine room, in hopes of taking all the extra weapons and stranding the Imperial vessel against further assault. It was Delbert who noticed a pair of Procyon soldiers headed below to do just that and he cried out the worry to Kolor.

The physician tried to fire at the soldiers, who were now trying to kick the doors to below in, but he quickly stopped, cursing under his breath. "Dammit,," he breathed, "I can't get a good shot."

Delbert blinked at him. If the Procyons managed to get below deck, then the chances of getting to Amelia and helping her team get out safely would die there. Delbert pushed his glasses up higher onto his nose. He'd be damned if he prevented help from reaching his beloved wife.

He stood boldly, ready to rush toward the soldiers and shoot them down quickly—hopefully before he himself got shot, which, out in the open like that, would likely be inevitable. He advanced, one, two paces, when suddenly a strong hand grabbed him and held him down.

"What the HELL are you DOING?" Kolor bellowed at him.

"I'm going to get a good shot!" Delbert protested, "I can't let them get below deck!"

Kolor pursed his lips and loosened his grip on Doppler. "I'll go."

"What?" Doppler exclaimed, "If you go out there—they'll see you! They'll know you're committing treason!"

"It's a suicide mission anyways," Kolor reasoned, "I'll be dead before they can try and hang me."

Delbert looked angry. "No. I won't have it. I'm going. You've risked your life enough for my empire."

"Don't flatter yourself into thinking this is all for your empire, Doctor," Kolor hissed, "This is just as much for me and my soul. I can't live with myself knowing I haven't done the right thing. This is the right thing. Let me go."

Delbert shuddered a little at the passion in the man's eyes, at the utter hatred for the land-lust of his people, at the aching shot to make this battle turn out right. Despite the earnest wish in the physician's eyes, however, Delbert could not allow the man to put his life on the line again. This was the only way he could think of to help HIS wife a this point in time, and NO ONE was going to take that from him, regardless of how noble his intentions were.

"No," Delbert said, standing again, slightly shocked at his own boldness, "You're important to this mission—we'll need a healer when all is said and done."

"But your wife—"

"Your fiancée," Delbert countered, stopping his argument only to charge his gun once more, "Your hopes for a peaceful life and family. You're going to be somebody's husband one day, so live for them, not me." With that said he crouched low, counting to three (he wouldn't allow himself any longer, lest he lose his nerve) slowly in his head as he prepared to dash toward the soldiers threatening the engines.

One…

Two…

"Well YOU'RE going to be a father! Live for THEM, not me!"

To be continued…

MwahahaHA. ::evil grin::

Hi, guys! How's it hanging? I know it's been FOREVAR since I've touched this, but lately all I've gotten lots of messages from readers that urged me to continue, plus, of course, the never ending stream of encouragement from my dearest friend, Tmyres77. (I love ya, girl!)

And so, here you are. Your fondest (LOL…maybe not) wishes.

I've UPDATED.

Note, I wrote this chapter in literally, 2 hours. I was fuelled strictly on the feelings of my fans, so I was just ACHING to get this to you ASAP. I don't know if it will live up to your expectations, but I hope it at least comes close.

Thank you to all my wonderful fans that have held on this long. This is for you. The wait is over—he finally knows. 

REVIEW! (Please) :)


	12. Chapter 12

Ch. 12

Disclaimer: TP characters belong to Disney. All others belong to me. All your base are belong to us.

Amelia was disheartened for a moment—when she saw the smaller ship that had blocked the path to her liberators, she had begun to worry that her plan had begun to fail and that, once the her weapons carried no charge, she would be good as dead. The only thing that gave her comfort at that time was that the majority of her fleet seemed to have succeeded in crippling or utterly destroying the Procyon Armada's vessels. She had steeled herself against the oppressing fear of death that began to wash over her as the Llao's Captain exploded onto the deck, mad as hell, with weapon firing. He held a saber over his head in one hand and a large hand cannon in the other, and any Terran solider that crossed his path would admit that it was a truly terrifying sight to behold—at least up until the moment his life was ended by the very same crazed man's weapon. Amelia knew that her best chance was to get the maniac from behind—one shot with the hand cannon would mean a sure death—and so she quietly made her way behind him, stood, and took aim…

The sound was THUNDEROUS as the R.M.S. Cassandra slammed into the side of the Llao. The crash toppled structure and person, and suddenly, one whole side of the ship began to smolder. The ram knocked Amelia of her feet and into her would-be prey, and while she had had her weapon torn from her hand in the shock, she was lucky to see that Maltor had suffered the same loss. They blinked at each other a moment before the two of them grabbed their sabers, thrusting them at one another until the met in a mighty 'clang.' They pushed back, each getting to their feet before charging at one another.

"Amelia!" Raymond called out from their former hiding spot.

"Go to the enemy ship next to us! Find a way to disable it! We need to get it away from my ship!"

Raymond wasn't about to argue with such an order, what with the situation critical now that the Llao was aflame. He threw a glance at Amelia before darting off toward the smaller Procyon vessel.

Stay safe my dear, he thought as he ran, Come back to me so that I may help you fill out those divorce papers.

Amelia observed Raymond's escape only long enough to confirm that he had made it aboard the other ship before throwing everything she had into the grandest swordfight of her career. Maltor was a formidable opponent when he WASN'T crazed as hell, so Amelia found herself moving faster and thinking quicker than she had for many years. She thrusted, she parried, she darted and dashed. He drew blood from her left arm twice, and she he managed to take a finger or two off his hand before the smoke from the small blazes on the ship's side began to interfere with her view.

She could hear crewman jumping into the fray from the damaged but still functional Cassandra, and from what she could tell, they were doing well. Still, she has a dangerous opponent right in front of her and blast-it-all she couldn't SEE him!

It was his angry growl that tipped her off, allowing her to dodge his blow before he could reach her. The two locked weapons again and this time, Amelia resolved herself to staying close enough to Maltor so that he would not leave her sight again. As she fought in the black smoke with her larger opponent, she heard her men being ordered to the safety of the Cassandra so that they could limp away from the flaming ship before it set their own ablaze. The smoke began to choke Amelia and she knew that she needed to finish the job soon.

She got in close, trying for the Procyon Captain's neck, but failed, and received another blow to her arm as punishment. Amelia stumbled a moment, leaving her side wide open for a moment. Maltor took that opportunity to lunge forward on his right foot and spear her through, but that part of the smoldering deck gave way under his foot and he fell, crashing to the floor, the boards creaking and spitting sparks at him. Amelia took the opportunity afforded her and attacked, running Maltor through with her sword, assuring his quick but assured death. She left him there, pinned to the deck with her saber, left to burn with the remains of the ship he once commanded.

She took a brief moment to search the deck at her feet and was fortunate enough to stumble across not only her own lost weapon, but Maltor's hand cannon as well. Though she was ill versed in their use (they were illegal weapons in the Empire), she brandished it anyway, hoping that if it didn't come of any use to her, at least it wouldn't fall into the hands of the enemy again. Amelia then made her way through the smoke, away from the safe harbor of the Cassandra to assist Raymond in freeing her ship from the Llao's neighbor.

Fortune, it would seem, was on Delbert Doppler's side for the umpteenth time that fortnight, for it was only the stumble he took upon hearing Kolor's words that had saved his insides from the likes of a blaster wound.

"Delbert! Are you alright?" Kolor breathed as Doppler hit the deck face-first.

The frazzled astrophysicist peeled himself from the wood deck and turned to Kolor with a wild look in his eyes. "That was a little far."

"What?"

"To get me to stop. That story you conjured up—that was going a little far."

Kolor didn't know whether to scream in frustration or laugh out loud. The man thinks I'm joking with him! He sighed to himself, Still, he seems pretty shaken by the mere prospect. He's safe now—best to keep him focused.

"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures," Kolor laughed as he lied through his teeth, "It was the only thing I could think of."

Delbert ran a hand through his hair. "You near about killed me, you know that."

"On the contrary, I just saved your ass."

Doppler frowned. "We still have to defend the engines. Perhaps if we both go, we'll have a better chance of one of us making it?"

Kolor thought this over a minute. He hated the idea, but there would be no further compromise. With himself along, he could shield Doppler, at the very least.

"Alright, let's do that. On three."

The peered out of their hiding place to see that a few of the Procyons were already making their way down below deck.

"No time! Let's go!" Doppler barked as he darted straight at the Procyons standing between them and the ship's bowels. Kolor jumped to his feet and quickly followed, gun out and heart racing.

Time passed as slowly and as quickly as Kolor had ever experienced it and together it was such a blur that he hadn't really realized they had both made it alive past their opponents until he and Doppler were securing the bowel's door against further invasion. His mind caught up to him as Doppler turned to look at him.

"N-now what?" the older man asked nervously. Doppler was sweating and shaking from the incident, and Kolor was sure that only a portion of the reaction was due to the physical exertion.

"Well," the physician said, "We saw a few Procyons come below deck—meaning we've just locked them in the underbelly with us. We'd best be on guard as we head for the engine room."

"Right."

The two of them crept silently forward, guns held in front of them. Being that neither of them was a trained military man, the two hardly looked like a crack swat team. In fact, when a couple of shots rang out, the two of them jumped before heading toward the source.

In the engine room's doorway, a Procyon lay dead, a single shot burned into his temple. Next to him, Nali lay, clutching her own weapon and bleeding.

"Nali!" Doppler exclaimed. He rushed to her and tried to rouse her as he called her name.

Kolor approached, holding a green engineer's lantern he had found by the entrance in his hand. He used the eerie light to survey her wounds before holding it to her face.

"She still has color and she's still breathing," Kolor said, as he reached into his pocket and produced a vial, which he waved in front of her nose. She coughed, then groaned.

"Uggggh…green light…"

"She's not too terribly wounded, but if we don't get her out of here, she'll die," Kolor remarked grimly. He turned to Doppler. "Can you get to the sickbay from here and lock the two of you in?"

"W-why me…?"

"You know this ship better than I do, Delbert. If I get lost, then she dies. You need to take her to sickbay, lock the door and bandage her up immediately. And besides, I'm a Procyon. I can blend in with the invaders should they come, convince them I've already got the engine room rigged with explosives. If I play my cards right, they won't fire on me."

Delbert bit his lip. As much as he hated the idea, Nali was depending on care.

"Very well."

"Good," Kolor nodded. "I'm going to lock myself in the engine room and defend it. With any luck, our boys upstairs will take care of the rest."

Delbert nodded. "Please, Kolor. Be safe, my friend."

Kolor grinned. "Of course."

Delbert scooped Nali into his arms and gave the Procyon one last look before he started off.

"Oh--! And Delbert," Kolor called.

Delbert turned to face him.

"I really do think you'd make a fine father."

Delbert shot him a look. "You'd better live, doctor. I owe you for that."

Kolor shrugged as he grinned wider, "I call 'em like I see 'em."

Delbert shook his head at the man before taking off for the sickbay. The only other sound he heard as he left the engine room hallway was the sound of Kolor securing the door.

Kolor sighed to himself as he prepared himself for a long and boring guard duty. He leaned against the door and forced himself to relax as he rested his eyes for a moment.

"It would seem," a voice rang out from the back of the engine room, "that we have a traitor in our midst. And you do know how much the Armada hates traitors."

Kolor's eyes flew open to find Maltor's second's gun pointed straight at his face.

To be continued…

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! I updated! 

Let me take a moment to thank absolutely EVERYONE who has read and reviewed this story. I'm sorry the updates have been less frequent than everyone (including myself) might like, but I'm a college graduate enjoying my summer now, and that means doing some long overdue writing. Thank you guys so much for being patient with me and for supporting me and giving me encouragement. This is truly one of the best fandoms I've ever been a part of and I couldn't be happier with it.

I'll probably wrap this up in a couple of more chapters. A lot is in store, but I wanted to get this little bit out so, A) the ending chapters wouldn't be TOO long and B) to put something out there for you guys so that you know I didn't give up on this. Thanks for not giving up on me. 


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